Star-crossed Writers
by TheTrueDivergent
Summary: *Short story* He: writer of one of the most commented Harry Potter fanfictions. She: writer of one of the most read stories. Their mutual interest for writing brings them together, but could their love for writing extend to love for each other? Modern/AU/Slight OOC. (Disclaimer: I don't own the book)
1. DauntlessTheBrave

**A/N:** Hey guys, I'm back with another story (short story most probably). This idea just popped up in my head one day and I instantly knew I had to write about it. I hope you guys enjoy. I think I should also put out there that updates will be EXTREMELY SLOW, so don't read if you don't like that.

 **Notes for the story:** Harry Potter will be mentioned continually throughout this story (but no you don't need any prior knowledge on this to understand the story). Please note that while I have read Harry Potter, I don't exactly remember much about it, so I'm sorry if anything is incorrect or doesn't make any sense at all. Also, all of the characters are the same age in this story. Your typical ships: Will and Christina, Marlene and Uriah, Zeke and Shauna. Four and Tris's ship will be developed in this story.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any Divergent characters or plots, just my own ideas. In this chapter there are some of VR's quotes that I paraphrased. You'll be able to recognize them.

 **Another A/N:** When I first came up with this story idea, it didn't really connect with me on a personal level - I loved the idea and thought it would look great to occur between Four and Tris, but I don't know anyone personally who got published or even _writes_ in their free time. Everyone I know are centered around grades and STEM and whatnot, and I was like that at one point too. But now my views have changed. Now I think it would be amazing to get published (it's actually on my bucket list) or co-author or, in the best situation, become a best selling author. I guess I'm just waiting for that moment where I come up with a novel idea that could start this career. But for now, writing fanfiction and hanging out with you guys is good too :)

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 1: DauntlessTheBrave

I sigh, collapsing onto my wooden seat by the desk in my room and opening my laptop. I check the time. _4:58 PM._ Just enough time to finish my homework and upload the latest chapter to my story.

I open Word, then click on the icon that represents my pre-written four thousand word chapter. I read it over, making adjustments here and there to where I see fit. Suddenly, an idea invades my editing state and I start typing furiously, letters and words rapidly appearing on the screen as I add one — no — two thousand more words to the document.

"Beatrice! Time for dinner!" My mother calls from downstairs. Dinner, already? I look at the time on my computer screen. _7:32 PM_? I didn't even start my homework yet!

I rush down the stairs, jumping the last three as my actions work in time with the speed of my thoughts. This isn't the first time that this has happened, and I know that Dad won't be happy if he finds out.

"Hey, Mom," I say, chuckling nervously. Caleb, who was setting the table, sends me a look, quirking his eyebrow. I glare at him playfully and he shrugs, smirking and resuming his chores. Being my twin brother, he knows everything that's going on with me, even without me having to say it directly. It's like we have a tacit understanding over everything.

"Hey sweetie." Mom says, throwing the oven mitt on the counter and glancing at me, her face slightly red from cooking over the hot stove. "Can you get the table mats and set them down, please?"

I do so, taking them from their spot near the sink and place them on the table, bumping into Caleb on purpose. He rolls his eyes as I wear a triumphant grin.

"Actually, Mom," I start, clutching the mat that was supposed to go on my place in my hand. "I was wondering if I could eat in my room today? I've just had a lot of homework, lately, you know..." I trail off, not failing to notice Caleb shaking his head slightly.

Mom sighs, this time looking up from the peas and to me. "Beatrice, you've already missed family dinner _twice_ this week. You have to eat with us today."

Caleb, who is now placing the last fork on the table, whispers in my ear: "Busted." I roll my eyes, but I know he's right.

When we all sit down to eat, my mother leads us in saying grace, and then they begin to eat. _They_ because rather than eating, I shovel the food down my throat. I'm the first one to excuse myself from the table, finishing my food in a record time of ten minutes.

Once in the sanctuary of my room, I open my bag for the first time since I've come home and start with my homework, which happens to be math homework. I don't happen to take a liking to math, but I love word problems. It's amazing that you can create an entire character, place, and problem, in just five sentences or less.

Call me a nerd, but whatever. I love it.

By the time ten rolls around, I've finally finished my all of my homework. Ignoring the nagging thought telling me that I haven't finished the homework to the best of my ability, I open up my mail on my phone, stalling until I feel the need to go to sleep.

 _Fanfiction. Chapter: Friends Ch43 by DauntlessTheBrave. New chapter from..._

Ecstatic that DauntlessTheBrave has uploaded a new chapter to their story, I open the fanficiton app, clicking on my favorites before I can finally read the master piece of a chapter.

DauntlessTheBrave's story is one of the most popular in the Harry Potter fandom as of this year. I like to think that my story is also an important story to many people, but I try not to dwell on the fact that his or her story has more reviews than mine. Instead, I write a review of my own at the end of the chapter, letting him or her know my likes and dislikes of the chapter.

I re-read the chapter once more before posting the review, in case I forgot to write anything in the review. Then I notice the A/N at the beginning of the chapter that I had scrolled through the first read through.

 _Thanks for all of the reviews, favs, and follows that you all have added to this story, they really mean a lot. I'm sad to inform you guys that this is the last chapter of the story. I hope you enjoyed the ups and downs of the story as much as I did. It was so much fun to write and read all of your kind reviews._

 _A quote until next time: "Don't cry that it's over. Smile because it happened."_

 _~ DauntlessTheBrave_

I read the note, once, twice, three times, not able to register the fact that _the_ best Harry Potter fanfic has come to a close. Adding on to my review, I leave a rant to DauntlessTheBrave, yelling that they ended the story all while thanking them for creating it in the first place. I sigh, finally pressing the _"_ _Post review as DivergentForLife"_ button.

I proceed to upload my own story, adding in a quick note about how my story will also be coming to an end in a few chapters. Then I scroll through the fandom, trying to find another fantastic story that can occupy my time when I'm not writing. That's when I notice I have a PM.

I click on the _Private Messaging_ button and notice that it's from DauntlessTheBrave. Clicking again, I read the note, which is thanking me for my continual support throughout _Friends_ and how he or she is glad that it's made an impact to readers. They also write about how they are sad that I am going to be ending my story so soon. _A little bit of deja vu there, isn't it?_ Is the first thought that comes to my mind.

I sigh, closing my laptop and turning in for the night, my head already churning with thoughts about the ways by which I can end my story.

...

" _Beatrice!_ " I wake with a start, nearly knocking my head against Caleb's. Realizing that it's just him, I groan and I fall back against the mattress.

"No! Don't fall asleep again!" He whines, but I've already closed my eyes.

What feels like seconds later, he screeches in my ear, "Wake up!" I sit up in bed, knowing that I won't get any sleep this way.

"What was the point of that?" I say, rubbing my ear and feeling like he damaged my eardrum.

"We're going to be late! You still have to change your clothes, brush your teeth, eat your—" Whatever he says next is lost as I chuck my pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. Then I sacrifice the warmth of the bed for my survival, running for dear life and slamming the bathroom door shut as he still recovers from the impact of the pillow.

I meet him downstairs, where he's just finishing up breakfast. He notices my arrival in the room and sticks his tongue out at me, a gesture which I immediately return.

"Kids!" Mom exclaims, looking at the two of us. Sighing, she places a fresh chocolate chip pancake in my plate. "I swear, sometimes you two act like little kids."

Caleb scoffs. "It's more like _Tris_ who's the little kid. She's barely even taking any honors classes, and yet she struggles to keep up with the homework!" My head snaps up from their gaze at my food, and when I meet his eyes I see a small smile.

Taking the maple syrup from the middle of the table I retort him. "Well at least I'm not the _nerd_ who's taking _all_ honors classes!"

He mimics me, talking in a high pitched voice and I do the same to him, our voices clashing to make a loud din.

"Enough!" Mom yells at us, but there's humor in her eyes. "Come on, you guys will be late if you don't leave now."

Caleb glances at his watch and gasps. "She's right, we have to go!" He says, springing up from his chair and rushing to get his school bag. I take my time — mostly just to spite him — and mumble _nerd._ He smacks the back of my head playfully in response. We smile and head out the door, our Mom chuckling behind us.

...

When we get to school, we both part ways. Even though we are really close at home, we don't usually associate at school, mainly because his crowd is not my crowd. Presently my mind is still thinking about my story. _If Harry tells Hermione about his secret, then..._

"Earth to Tris!" Christina, my best friend, says to me as I approach my locker. I jump back and place a hand on my heart, frightened by her sudden presence.

"Jesus, Christina, you scared me!" I say, entering my locker combination, then snapping it open.

"I've been trying to get your attention for, like, ten minutes!" She exaggerates. That's Christina: adding hyperboles to nearly everything that she says. But she wouldn't be Christina without them.

I sigh, pausing my search for my English materials and looking at her. "What is it?"

"Nothing really," She says, playing with her hair. "I was just wondering if you saw Will today."

I roll my eyes and successfully locate my binder in the mess that is my locker. "How would I know? I just got here."

"Well sorry, Ms. Sassy Pants." She says as we simultaneously begin walking towards our Honors English class.

"It's alright, Ms. Head-over-heels-in-love-with-Will." She shoves me playfully and we laugh, entering my favorite class of the day.

...

A hand slams on my desk during the last few minutes of class, showing me the result of a quiz we recently took on our reading.

 _15/15._ Is written at the top of the paper in neat red ink.

"Beat that, Prior." The voice belonging to the hand says. I scoff.

"Back off Four, I haven't even gotten my paper yet!" Just as I say this, Ms. Moyer, our English teacher, hands the paper to me before hustling to the desk of the next student. Four snatches the paper out of my hands before I can even look at it myself.

He scoffs and wears a look of pure shock on his face. "How did you get _16/15_ when there wasn't even any extra credit?"

I smirk, turning the paper over to reveal the back side and hidden extra credit question. "Consider this a lesson learned: Always check the back of a quiz before turning it in."

He rolls his eyes as I smile in victory. "Fine. What does that make us? You're 280, and I'm 279?" I nod in agreement. He glares at me before sulking back to his desk.

The bell rings and I wait for Chris to finish packing up before exiting the class.

"Are you _sure_ that there's nothing going on with you and Four?" She asks tentatively. I grimace.

"No way. Nuh-uh. It's just a friendly competition." I say, explaining that Four and I have been rivals since the day he stacked the foam blocks higher than mine in elementary school. It's fun at times, because he pushes me to work harder in my classes, but sometimes it can be pure annoying, like when he has to rub it in my face.

Christina has this notion that it's more than just being friends, and she insists that there's more going on between us. And I always find myself countering her.

She sighs knowingly, as if she knows that we'll end up dating at some point. "Whatever you say, Tris."

We then head our separate ways: me to math and she to art.

...

The sound of the school bell brings me out of my "crazed writing state", as my friend Uriah likes to call it. I've gotten a solid two thousand words this free period, which is way more than I thought I would.

Sighing in contentment for my accomplishment, I close my laptop and stash it in my bag, then sling it over my shoulder as I walk to the cafeteria.

I take my normal seat at our table, with Christina on my right and Uriah on my left. Then I take out my homework from my bag and start working on it while I'm eating.

"Tris, when will you ever learn to do your homework during your free period?" Marlene, Uriah's girlfriend, chastises.

Through a mouthful of macaroni and cheese, I say, "Never," though it comes off as "Neff-r." She shakes her head at my behavior but wears a small smile.

Just then, Four sits down. Four is best friends with Zeke, who also happens to be Uriah's older brother, and since they both get along we all have to sit together. I usually try to contain myself during lunch, but we can never know when I erupt. Or when he will, for that matter.

"What will she never do?" He asks, missing what Marlene had said at the beginning.

"Do homework during her free period." Christina supplies, already bored of this conversation. By the looks of it, she's itching to let me in on the latest gossip.

Four furrows his eyebrows. "Then what _do_ you do during your free period?"

I blush. My close friends know that I write fanfiction, because I know they won't judge me for being a nerdy fangirl. But Four, on the other hand... well, it's a surprise that I've been able to keep it a secret for this long.

"She writes fanfiction." Uriah says, popping a french fry into his mouth. I give him a sideways glare and he stops chewing, realizing what he's done.

"No! What he means is..." I look around at my friends for help, thinking of words that rhyme with fanfiction. "I read fiction. You know, because I during free period I'm at the library and there's so many books, I just lose track of time..." I look into Four's eyes and I can tell he's not entirely buying it, but I just leave the topic there.

"Oh! Speaking of fiction, have you read the new book that came out last month? They're thinking of turning it into a movie..." Shauna starts.

My friends carry on their conversations, at one point laughing at Uriah's addiction to cake to another moment talking about how Four is so quiet. At this time I decide to contribute to the conversation.

"Don't worry, guys, he's just being a sore loser." I say, looking at him. He meets my eyes with a steely glare, but I don't back down.

Zeke sighs. "What was the competition this time?"

"The English quiz from a few weeks ago." I respond, still not taking my eyes off of Four. "I beat him, just because he was stupid enough to not look at the back for the extra credit." Another perk of the competition: _I_ can rub it in _his_ face.

His hand slams down on the table, startling everyone. "Careful, Tris." He says, walking off to throw away the aluminum foil that held his sandwich.

"You know what, Tris?" Christina says. " _I_ have a theory."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Wow Christina, I didn't know you were smart enough to come up with a hypothesis, let alone a whole _theory_!" I say. She settles for the eye roll.

"It's that _you_ my friend, have a death wish."

In some ways, she's not wrong.

* * *

 **THREE WEEKS LATER**

* * *

I sigh, publishing the final chapter of my story just as the shrill sound of the bell goes off.

I plop down into my seat in the cafeteria. I need to write about something else now. As an aspiring writer, I use fanfiction to give me practice at writing. JK Rowling is my role model, so I know that I want to keep writing about Harry Potter... but my ideas are running dry.

Four gasps from the seat in front of me. All eyes at our table turn towards him. He looks up from his phone, blushing slightly.

"What happened?" Zeke asks.

"N-nothing. It's nothing." He says, dismissing the topic with the wave of his hand and immediately glueing his eyes to his screen again.

I raise my eyebrow in Zeke's direction, thinking that he might know, but he just shrugs and goes back to his food. I eventually do the same.

...

At home, I finish my homework, then steal a glance at the time. _6:30._ Now that I've finished my story I have so much free time that I don't know what to do with.

I open fanfiction again, logging in and clicking on my favorites. _Nope, nothing there._ The latest update was from DauntlessTheBrave, and he or she has already finished the story.

 _They've finished the story, and so have I..._

I get an idea and decide to send a PM to DauntlessTheBrave.

 _Hi DauntlessTheBrave,_

 _I was wondering that since you've already finished your story and I've recently finished mine, if you would like to do a collab story with me? I need something new to write and I'm guessing that you do too. If you are interested, then please let me know._

 _Thanks,_

 _DivergentForLife_

It couldn't hurt to send the message.

Right?

* * *

 **Review** if what happened to Tris at the beginning of the chapter has happened to you before! ;)


	2. Collab?

**A/N:** I love you guys. Thanks for all the support you've given so far, it really means a lot.

To the guest who asked me about my updating schedule: the next chapter will be in three months at max. (But this _is_ the longest chapter that I've ever written in my entire life, so yay, I guess). I'm aiming for updates every four to six weeks after that.

On a completely unrelated note, if y'all could be so kind as to support my writing on Wattpad, it would really mean the world to me. I know lots of fanfiction writers also have wattpad accounts. It'll only take a few minutes of your time :)

 **Disclaimer:** More VR quotes in this chapter. Again, you will probably recognize them.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 2: Collab?

 _I get an idea and decide to send a PM to DauntlessTheBrave._

 _It couldn't hurt to send the message._

 _Right?_

My finger hovers over the button, but before I can change my mind, I press _send._

I go to bed, nerves wracking my mind. I don't know why I'm so nervous, but I guess we've grown a virtual friendship over the years and I don't want to break that.

...

The next day, I wake up without Caleb having to do so himself. I grab my phone from the nightstand beside my bed and check my PM's, only to realize that there are none. Feeling a bit disappointed, I get out of bed and start my morning routine.

...

I'm on my phone all day. My mind _cannot_ stop thinking about the PM, especially since I'm itching to write something new.

"Four, who are you texting?" Shauna says during lunch, leaning to the left to get a better look at his phone. He scoots closer to Zeke, shielding his phone from her. Zeke wraps his arm around him.

"Sweetie, I know you love me, but I thought we agreed to not go public yet!" Zeke whisper shouts. This sends the table in a fit of laughs, knowing that Zeke is already dating Shauna, and causes Four to look up from his phone.

Four swats at Zeke's arm. "Shut up, Zeke." He grumbles, clearly not in the mood for Zeke's games, and looks back at his phone. I find it funny how they are complete opposites, yet they seem to get along. I take out my phone again, looking for that one PM.

Then I see it. The little _(1)_ next to the _Private Messaging._ I click on it eagerly. Sure enough, it's a message from DauntlessTheBrave.

 _Hi DivergentForLife,_

 _I think that writing a collab would be a great idea. I've been having this idea for a while now, but I feel that it would take too long to do it myself, so I'm glad you showed up. Especially since you're the best writer in the HP fandom ;)_

 _Let me know the next step._

 _\- DauntlessForLife_

I blush reading the comment. He or she thinks that I'm the best writer on here! I smile. Sending the message was definitely worth it.

I'm about to type a reply, but I'm stopped by a constant tapping on my shoulder.

Frustrated, I turn towards the person, who happens to be Christina. She's grinning wider than I've ever seen before. "What?"

Looking at the group, she says, "Tris and I are going to the bathroom."

"We are?" I ask, confused. She grabs my wrist and drags me off.

When we finally get there, Christina checks to make sure that no one is in the stalls, then says, "I need help!"

"With what?"

She sighs and looks down, a sign that she's about to make a confession. "I think... no, I _want_ to ask Will out, but I don't know how."

I nearly squeal in happiness despite myself. "My best friend is finally growing up!" She scoffs but wears a smile.

"So? Any ideas?" She asks.

"Well, I'm not really good with these things but..." I think back to some of the romance stories that I've read. "Maybe you could find something that you both have in common, like the same band or something like that, and just see how things go from there."

"But I don't want to be stuck in the friend zone."

"At least the friend zone is better than the I'm-so-in-love-that-I-can't-even-talk-to-you zone." She laughs and brings me in for a hug.

"Thanks, Trissy." She says, then bolts out of the bathroom, knowing that I'll kill her for calling me that name.

"Hey!" I run after her laughing, happy for the amazing friends that I have and that I can finally get back to writing.

...

That night, I collapse onto my bed with my laptop having finished my homework. I'm hoping to reply to the PM before I accidentally doze off.

Just as I log in, my phone starts ringing. Groaning, fall onto my back, then roll on my side until I can reach my nightstand. I grab my phone and check the caller ID. Christina. That means this could take forever. I press the green button and bring the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I moan out.

"Tris!" She yells excitedly, causing me to take the phone away from my ear for a second. Turning down the volume, I bring it back.

"What?"

"Can you be a girl for a second?" She asks seriously.

I frown. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

She sighs. "You know, like a silly, annoying girl."

I smirk lazily. "So, like you?"

She groans. "Tris..."

"Fine, fine." I say. Then, in my best attempt to talk girly, I say, "So what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

She laughs, probably at my cringe-worthy attempt, before answering. "So, I took your advice, and Will and I booked tickets to a concert!" She says, squealing at the end. I can just imagine her jumping up and down right now. I smile, feeling happy that my best friend is finally getting the boy of her dreams.

"That's great, Chris! I told you things would work out."

"Yeah. Now I just have to work my way out of the friend zone," She says, singing the 'friend zone' part.

Then without me even asking, she goes on to tell me about the details of the asking, how she approached him, speaking in a stilted manner and how he calmly responded with aplomb and sangfroid. Before I know it, I fall asleep to the sound of my best friend talking on the phone.

...

"Tris?" I wake up, startled, and look at Caleb. "How did you sleep last night?" He says sarcastically. I can tell he's trying not to laugh at me. Probably because I'm holding my phone in one hand and my laptop is at my feet.

Groaning, I sit up. "Shut up." I say, walking towards the bathroom in a sleep-walking fashion. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Caleb rolling his eyes at me.

When I finally get dressed and finish up my breakfast, I head to school. When I make it to my locker, I notice that I have a few spare minutes before the bell rings. I take out my phone, hoping to keep the boredom at bay. The first thing that comes on the screen is the fanfiction app.

... What was I using that for?

The collab!

I dozed off last night, and I didn't even get a chance to reply to DauntlessTheBrave! What if he/she thinks that I'm unprofessional and doesn't want to work with me anymore? Or what if they thought I was taking too long and started a story without me? What if...

I frantically open my private messages and notice another _(1)_ there. Great. It must be an email that's telling me that I'm no longer invited to do the collab.

Sighing, I open the PM.

 _DivergentForLife,_

 _I know that it's only been a day since I've sent the last PM, but I really want to get back to writing. If you're still in on it, let me know. If you are, I was thinking_ _that maybe we should get to know each other a little bit better, just for fun and also so we will be possible friends writing rather than random strangers._

 _\- DauntlessTheBrave_

Phew, they still want my to co-author with them! I sigh in relief and rest my back against the lockers. Deciding that I shouldn't put this off and let procrastination take over, I reply then and there.

 _Hi_ _DauntlessTheBrave,_

 _I'm so sorry for not replying... I was busy with a friend. I'm still interested in the collab, I can't wait to start! I agree that we should get to know each other a bit better, so let me start: What's your name? I'm Six._

 _\- DivergentForLife_

I frown re-reading my message. I don't want to tell them my real name on a public website, so I decide on the pseudonym Six. That was the number of chapters I posted on my story before I got even one review.

Deciding that the name Six sounds fine - I mean, just look at Four - I send the message and turn my frown into a smile. This should be fun.

"Hey Tris!" I look up from my phone to be greeted by the cheerful smile of my best friend. She opens her locker beside me.

"I know why I'm smiling, but why are you?" She asks, a playful grin on her face.

"Oh, nothing really, just that I'm co-authroing a story now." I say with nonchalance, even though it means so much to me.

Christina gasps. "That's great Tris! One step closer to becoming a best selling author!" I roll my eyes at this.

"You never know. They say that only 5% of those who want to become authors actually do become them, let alone best selling authors." I say, remembering the article that I had read when I first took an interest in writing.

She scoffs. "The fact that you have that statistic in the back of your mind means that you are determined enough to become one." I scoff back, but silently I hope it's true.

" _Anyways,_ " She says, changing the subject. "Who are you writing with?"

"They're one of _the best_ writers in the Harry Potter fandom," I praise as she takes out her notebooks. "It feels like a huge honor to write with them."

She squeals loudly. "OMG! What if he's one of those super hot guys who are also hella smart? Then you could—"

"Christina," I interrupt, knowing where she's going with this conversation. "I don't know what gender they are. Notice how I've been using 'they' this entire time. And plus, I'm straight, if you didn't know."

She sighs. "But Tris, if _they_ are a boy then you could totally date him!"

I laugh at this suggestion. "Yeah, like I'd date someone who I've never met before."

"It's not like you have to date right away. When you get to know each other, you'll feel... it."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, like how you feel _it_ for Will?"

"Exactly!" She says excitedly. I sigh and turn in the other direction towards my class, but Christina's arm stops me.

"Tris, don't be mad. All I'm trying to say is that this is a possibility for you. And remember you told me to find a common interest that Will and I share? Well you both have a common interest of writing! It's a great start. You should consider it." She says to me with all sincerity.

"Alright, fine." I surrender. Being a junior and not having dated anyone is a rarity at this school, so she's not entirely wrong in telling me this. But still, I feel like it's too early for me. "I'll tell you if I feel _it._ "

She smiles and sighs. "Great." Then, tugging at my arm, she says, "Now come on, you were going in the wrong direction."

And with that, the day begins.

...

JK Rowling once said, "Writing and cafes are strongly linked in my brain."

And I am in total agreement.

Sitting here, at Tori's Café, I have never felt more relaxed. Tori, the owner, may be older than me but she is one of my closest friends and is almost like a sister to me. She's definitely a role model to me and I know I can count on her for anything.

And another great thing about her: the coffee she makes tastes amazing - according to her, she has her own secret ingredient that she still hasn't told me, despite my begging over the past few years.

"I managed to convince Bud to cover my shift for the next ten minutes." She says, sitting across from me and removing my hands from my laptop and placing them in her own. "How is my Trissy doing?"

"Great!" I tell her excitedly. "You know how I finished writing my HP fanfiction story?" I ask, even though I already know that she has. In fact, Tori was the one who told me to continue writing - when I posted the first chapter, no one reviewed for weeks, and I lost hope quickly. But she always found time to read my story even after it had gained popularity.

"Are you going to write another one?" She asks.

I nod. "And I'm writing it with another writer, too. I think it will be a great experience."

She gives me a warm smile, and I feel happy knowing that she's proud of me. "I knew you could do it, Tris." She says with a certain level of sincerity in her voice. "I'm so proud of you."

I can't help but return her smile. "Thank you." I can't help but feeling proud of me, too.

One day, I was sulking about the fact that I had finally figured out what I wanted to do with my life - become a writer - and how my dad didn't want that for me. My thoughts were extremely depressing, so I decided that a coffee would do me good. I stumbled across Tori's Café, and things between her and I took off from there. Back then, her café wasn't that popular either, so we both were going through rough starts. But we helped each other - me by becoming a frequent customer at her cafe, and she by reviewing every single chapter that I published - and now, we've gone on to do amazing things.

My dad isn't the biggest fan of me writing fanfiction, but I know that my mom is. Still, having only one parent approve of my writing is really disheartening. But having Tori approve of my writing is like having a second person be proud of what I do. And that always makes me feel loved.

We spend the next few minutes discussing how our day has gone so far. I tell Tori about what happened with Four - whom she is very familiar with just based off my daily rant about him - while she tells me about how she tried out a new recipe in the kitchen.

"Tori!" I hear Bud yell from the back, and before I know it, the ten minutes are up.

"I'll leave you back to you writing." She says standing up. "And when you finally do publish a book, you better give me some credit! Or better yet, a free copy!" She yells over her shoulder as she heads back to the kitchen.

I laugh at her retreating figure and log back into my fanfiction account, not surprised to find that there's another message from DauntlessTheBrave.

 _Well, my name is Tobias. My turn... what's your favorite color? Mine is light blue._

I respond immediately.

 _Oh wow, mine is also blue - but a dark, navy blue. Like the ocean.  
What's your favorite song?_

If things continue this way, I think we'll be fine. The story is going to be amazing.

And I can't wait.

* * *

 **DAY 1**

* * *

 _DTB: Hmm... can't say I have a preference of songs. I pretty much listen to anything that's on. What about you?_

 _DFL: Pretty much the same case with me. I'm such a book nerd I don't even pay attention to songs anymore :P_

 _DTB: Book nerd, huh? What's your favorite?_

 _DFL: You do realize what your asking? And to whom? ;)_

 _DTB: ... Whoops :) Let me rephrase that. What's your favorite book_ besides _Harry Potter?_

 _DFL: Now there I've gotta say the Percy Jackson series. Rick Riordan wrote it really well. All my knowledge on Greek mythology is from those books._

 _DTB: Nice choice. Mine is probably "Paper Towns"_ _._

 _DFL: Really? Did you know that I still haven't gotten around to reading it yet? ...Don't judge me!_

 _DTB: *gasps dramatically and falls to the floor in shock* You_ have got _to read it! It's amazing! Seriously!_

 _DFL: Alright, alright. I'm at the library right now, actually. I'm getting it, just for you :)  
_

 _DTB: Good. Let me know what you think of it when you start reading._

 _DFL: OK. Talk to you later._

* * *

 **DAY 2**

* * *

 _DFL: Tobias guess what?_

 _DTB: What?_

 _DFL: I've almost finished the book. And I now have someone to blame if I end up doing poorly on my quiz today._

 _DTB: Haha. It's really nice, isn't it?_

 _DFL: Yeah. I've been meaning to read it for a while, but it had been on the back burner for a while._

 _DTB: Well, I'm glad you're liking it so far. I won't spoil anything for you, so let me know once you've finished._

 _DFL: Will do._

 _DFL: Okay, so you've given me a recommendation and I followed through with it. So now you to read something that I recommend._

 _DTB: Alright. I'm game._

 _DFL: Have you read "Eleanor & Park"?_

 _DTB: Ugh, no. Isn't it some sappy romance story?_

 _DFL: Isn't "Paper Towns"?_

 _DTB: ... Touché. Fine, I'll read it._

 _DFL: :) You'll like it, you'll see._

* * *

 **DAY 3**

* * *

 _DFL: Tobias OMG!_

 _DTB: Yeah?_

 _DFL: THAT ENDING I CAN'T._

 _DTB: ;)_

 _DFL: Thanks for forcing me to read it. It definitely was worth staying up late._

 _DTB: Yeah, it really is._

 _DTB: Hey, I have news for you too, Six._

 _DTB: I just finished "Eleanor & Park"._

 _DFL: That quickly?_

 _DFL: Wow, you're a fast reader._

 _DTB: Why, thank you :)_

 _DFL: Haha. Anyways, what did you think of it?_

 _DTB: I liked it. It was one of those summer read type of books, you know?_

 _DFL: Yeah. I can see where you're coming from._

 _DTB: ... Hey, I have an idea! Six, I challenge you in a reading contest._

 _DFL: Color me intrigued._

 _DTB: Lucky for you, that's my favorite color._

 _DFL: :) Nice one._

 _DTB: Haha. Anyways, we'll both choose the same book and have to start reading at the same time. Whoever can finish the book first is declared the fastest reader._

 _DFL: But what about sleeping? And... you know, life? As much as I'd like to read books as my life, that isn't exactly ideal in my life right now._

 _DTB: I agree. High school is not the best place to grow your creative self._

 _DFL: Hey, you go to high school too? What grade are you in?  
_

 _DTB: I'm a junior. And you?  
_

 _DFL: Also a junior!  
_

 _DTB: Wow, what a coincidence!_

 _DTB: But anyways, back to your question. You can only read for one hour a day. It'll still work this way because the person who reads fastest will end up finishing quicker in those one hour slots._

 _DFL: ... How do I know you haven't cheated?  
_

 _DTB: ... Honor system? You better trust me if we're going to write a story together._

 _DFL: You're right :)_

 _DFL: Alright, I'm in the library right now. Any recommendations?_

 _DFL: And it can't be anything that you've already read._

 _DTB: You're already at the library again? What is that, you're home? :)_

 _DFL: It might as well be, haha._

 _DTB: Relatable. But uh... just go into a random isle and grab a random book._

 _..._

 _DFL: Ok, I'm back with "1984" by George Orwell._

 _DTB: Oh wow. Wasn't expecting that one._

 _DTB: Have you read it before?  
_

 _DFL: Nah. I mean, I know that it's such an important part of English literature, but... I don't like politics._

 _DFL: I had to read his other book, "Animal Farm", as part of an English class, and I hated it._

 _DTB: Oh. I kind of liked that book._

 _DTB: But we don't have to read this one if you don't want to._

 _DFL: No, it's fine. Better now than never, am I right?  
_

 _DTB: That you are :)_

 _DTB: So after school I'll get my copy. And then, let the competition begin._

* * *

 **DAY 4**

* * *

 _DFL: So I read my one hour yesterday. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner... I fell asleep reading._

 _DTB: Haha. It was that bad?_

 _DFL: No, no, just... it's kind of boring in the beginning, you know? Which makes sense, since the author has to set the stage and stuff. But I'm guessing that I'll be on my toes for the remainder of the book. Especially after that really morbid scene that Winston writes in his journal._

 _DTB: Oh, yeah. That was scary._

 _DFL: Yeah. We'll see what happens._

* * *

 **DAY 11**

* * *

Tobias and I have gotten to know each other very well now. It's only been a little over a week since we formally introduced ourselves, but I feel so comfortable talking to him. We have a lot in common - more than I thought we would, and it's just so easy to talk to him about anything and everything.

Currently, I'm sitting in the library during my free period, trying to finish the book that we agreed to read, _1984_. I'm actually enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. I only have ten pages of the book left, but I also have three more minutes left on the clock for today. I'm sure Tobias is just as close as I am to finishing the book, but I really want to win.

"Hey, Tris." A voice says beside me. I look up, about to request that they would please leave me alone for just a few more moments, but I realize that it is actually Uriah. Normally, he is so sweet and happy, but his demeanor today seems off. Plus, he has class right now, meaning that he is cutting class for some reason.

"Hey, Uri." I say, then slide over and pat the seat beside me, signaling for him to sit. He does so gratefully. "What's up?"

"Nothing." He says, dismissing whatever he had in mind. Motioning towards my book, he asks, "Whatcha reading?"

"Nothing." I say, mimicking his tone and crossing my arms across my chest, forgetting all about my reading. "Tell me what's going on, Uriah."

He sighs. "It's Marlene, okay?" He rubs his temples. "I fucked up."

"It can't be _that_ bad," I say, trying to coax something out of him. "What did you do?"

"She thinks I like you, Tris." He says after a few moments of silence. "I don't even know how she came to that conclusion."

"She... what?"

Uriah was the first guy friend that I ever had. Back in grade school, Four and I were obviously not friends. But Uriah was the first boy besides my brother who was nice to me, and didn't believe that stuff about cooties. From there, the gang formed, and although Uriah and I don't get to talk to each other as much as we used to, he's still a second brother to me.

So to hear that Marlene, a girl who Uriah has been crushing on since forever, believes that Uriah likes _me_ is a real shocker.

Presently, Uriah sighs. "Yeah. I don't know how that happened. But it did. And now I don't know what to do."

"Well, how did she come to that conjecture?"

A ghost of a smile graces Uriah's lips. "English, Tris."

I smile back in response. "How did she come up with the idea?"

"Well, she told me about it and I started defending myself by saying that while I did hold you close to my heart, I only loved you like family."

"And she didn't believe that?"

"No. She used the fact that I was defending myself so vehemently as a point that I was trying to hide the truth."

"Oh." I say simply. "I'm sure she'll understand if we just talk to her about it."

Uriah sighs, sinking into the seat. "I hope so."

Our conversation ends at the same moment that my timer goes off. I sigh and turn it off. I guess I'll just have to read tomorrow then. But I wouldn't trade this conversation with Uriah for anything - I'm glad that he came and talked to me about it.

"What was the timer for?" Uriah asks curiously, picking up my phone.

I snatch my phone back playfully and answer: "I had a timer for one hour. I was supposed to read this." I say, holding my copy of "1984".

Uriah glances at it, his eyebrow raised. "Didn't we already have to read that? I thought you didn't like to re-read books."

I frown. "We did?"

"Yeah. At least, in my English class we did. It was so boring. Just about a guy who ends up—"

"Sh!" I say, shooting up in my seat and silencing him immediately. "Don't spoil it, or you know what happens."

Once I was reading a book back in second grade, and Uriah practically spoilt the whole ending for me, even though I had just started reading. I don't even remember what the book was; all I remember was that I cried for a long time and gave Uriah the silent treatment for the rest of the week.

Uriah laughs, obviously recollecting the same memory. "Alright, alright."

The next few minutes are silent, save for the sounds of me packing up my bag. Then Uriah says: "But... I thought you liked young adult novels?"

I sigh. "Yeah, but I'm holding a competition with someone to see who can read the most, and we both had to read the same book. And I happened to pick up this one."

"But didn't you see which isle you were in? You could have still chosen a young adult book if you wanted."

"I walked around with my eyes closed." I say, blushing.

Uriah laughs loudly at this. "I can just imagine it! Tris, the nerd who spends her life at the library, walking around like a zombie—"

"Hey!" I say, laughing as well and silently happy that Uriah is back to his old self again. "One: I am _not_ a nerd! And two—"

"Tris is a nerd, Tris is a nerd!" He sings at the top of his lungs, standing up as if he wants the world to hear him.

I pull him down and place my pointer finger on my lips. "Uriah! We're in a library!"

Uriah smiles at me. "The fact that you reminded me that just further proves that really are a book nerd."

I facepalm and Uriah chuckles. Then he says, "Hey Tris? Thanks. For being there for me. I was debating whether or not to tell 'cause I didn't want things to get too awkward or anything."

I smile back at him. "Anytime, Uriah. No need to thank me. You can talk to me about anything, you know that."

I continue to pack up my bag, as the lunch bell is about to ring, when I hear a gasp. I look up towards my left in time with Uriah and see Marlene wearing a shocked expression.

"I knew it!" She says, tears welling in her eyes.

"No, no, no, Marlene—" Uriah starts.

"Just save it." Marlene says bitterly, walking away, and Uriah looks at me helplessly.

Of course, when one thing in my life goes good for me, something else goes absolutely wrong.

* * *

Don't forget to **review, follow, and favorite** to let me know what you think of the story so far!


	3. Lights, Pencil, Write!

**A/N:** Thanks again, to everyone who has been putting up with my and my sporadic updates. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

A guest reviewer said that it was hard to follow the conversations as they were texting each other. So here I'll put a reminder that **DTB** is DauntlessTheBrave, while Tris is **DFL** (DivergentForLife). Hope that clears up any confusion!

This chapter contains some more stuff related to Harry Potter. Once you read it, you'll probably think it's a super lame idea, but I please ask that you just go with it and assume that with this idea it will take them months to complete the story (you'll understand what I'm talking about once you get there).

PS: In case any of you were wondering, I'm in the process of writing the next chapter of "Love Can't Be Muted" ;)  
And also: If you're bored, check out my book of divergent one-shots. I hope you'll like that, too :)

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 3: Lights, Pencil, Write!

* * *

 **DAY 35**

* * *

"Hey Tris." Uriah chirps (or at least, tries to) as the first bell rings, signaling that students will be marked tardy ten minutes from now.

"Hey Uri." I say, retracting my eyes from my phone, where they were practically glued.

Tobias and I have gotten to know each other very well, despite it only being a little more than a month that we agreed to talk. I'm sure if we were to play a trivia game where we had to guess what the other person would do in a certain situation, we would get all the questions right. I really like talking to him, actually. It's gotten to the point where I never take my eyes off my phone, constantly refreshing the app to see if I have received any PM's. It's an unhealthy obsession, but I don't want to stop.

"So, I was wondering—" Uriah starts, but is cut off by Christina barging in between the two of us.

"Sorry Uriah," She says, sounding very frazzled. "I'm stealing Tris for a while." She says, and practically drags us away from the lockers. I awkwardly wave behind me at Uriah, who laughs at us with an equal amount of awkwardness.

"Calm, Chris." I tell her after a few minutes. Her grip on my arm is so strong that it hurts after a while. "What's going on?"

She sighs. "I'm sorry." She says, and pulls us into our english classroom, seating us in the back. "It's just... Will and I are going to that concert tonight. It's two hours away, meaning more awkward time in between... and I don't even know what to wear... and I just..." She trails off, sighing, and I swear I see tears in her eyes. "What if he doesn't love me like I do?"

Normally, I would roll my eyes, but there's something different about the way she's talking that is making me concerned. We're only in the eleventh grade, and this woman is already worried about love.

"Christina," I tell her, taking her hands in mine. "There are so many types of love. There's selfless love, there's unrequited love, there's platonic love... even true love, if you believe in that. But right now, what you have is unrequited love. And that type of love is not good for you. But there's also... best friend love." I say, and she laughs quietly. "Best friend love is a love that will always be there. And even if it's between friends, it's still love. OK? So maybe after tonight Will won't love you the way you do, but you two will share best friend love, and that's still love, Chrissy. Got it?"

She nods, wiping her eyes. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I don't know what had gotten into me. We're only in high school." She says with a watery laugh. "I guess I'm just nervous."

I pat her shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright. That's what friends are for."

"But..." She says, her animated voice returning. "I still don't have something to wear. Come shopping with me?" She asks, giving me her best puppy-dog face.

I roll my eyes, knowing it's best not to argue. "Fine. But not for long."

"Yay!" She claps her hands together excitedly. "I roped Marlene and Shauna into coming along with me."

 _Marlene's coming - a perfect opportunity for me to talk things out with her._

"That's great!" I say a little too excitedly, causing Christina to look at me strangely.

"I mean, you know, to have some girl time." I clear my throat awkwardly. "That's what I meant."

Christina rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Tris. I've accepted that you're weird."

"That I am," I agree, nodding, causing her to laugh.

...

"I'm glad you dragged me into coming, Christina!" Shauna says as we enter one of her favorite stores.

"Yeah, yeah, but after this we get to go to one of _my_ favorite stores!" She announces, heading to the dresses section. Shauna follows her soon after, leaving just Marlene and I.

"Listen, Marlene—" I start, but she cuts me off.

"Like I said before: save it." She raises her arm up aggressively and nearly storming off. I grab her hand just as she walks away, and she turns around to face me.

"Please Marlene. Uriah and I are good friends, but there's nothing going on between us! And I thought we were good friends too, up until this point."

Marlene scoffs. "Come on, Tris. You and Uriah have so many things in common, I can't believe I didn't see it before."

I look at her incredulously. "We are talking about the same Uriah, right? We have nothing in common! For one, he hates reading, while I practically breathe books. He is interested in music and graphic design, while I could kill someone if I tried to sing and can't use a photoshop to save my life. Three—"

"Okay, well you want to know what you have in common?" Marlene counters. "One, you both grew up together. Two, you're both interested in art majors. Three, your parents know each other personally! How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"That's just the point, Marlene!" I say, growing frustrated that she can't see what both Uriah and I see. "This isn't a competition. You stole Uriah's heart from day one! He told me all about how beautiful you were; he couldn't stop talking about you!"

"But—"

"Oh, Trissy!" Christina calls, emerging from the back of the store. "I found you a perfect dress that you could wear with that hunk of a man that you've been texting when you finally meet him."

Marlene scoffs, crossing her arms across her chest. "Oh, so Uriah wasn't enough for you? Now you're meeting someone else, too?"

"Marlene, just hear me out—"

"I cannot believe he would go out with such a slut like you!" Marlene shouts, then leaves the store, stomping.

"Hey, Christina, what do you think of this dress?" Shauna asks. When she sees Marlene leave, she asks, "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know." I mutter, and leave shortly after.

...

Later that day, I'm laying on my bed, just thinking and giving some time to myself.

Christina must have just left for her 'date' with Will and is probably freaking out, Marlene still won't talk to me, and Uriah is helpless. And I don't know what to do.

"Tris!" Caleb interrupts my thoughts. "Your phone has been ringing like crazy."

"Can you come give it to me?" I holler back.

"Come get it yourself!" He responds.

Groaning, I roll off the bed and head downstairs. When he sees me, he smirks and I stick my tongue out childishly. I notice him cutting some fresh strawberries, so I steal one from him and pop it in my mouth. Angry, he throws one at me, but I successfully catch it in my mouth.

Raising my hands up, I say loudly, "Tris is undefeatable!"

He sticks his tongue back out at me.

Going back up the stairs, I check my notifications.

 _DTB: Hey. So I think we've known each other for long enough._

 _DTB: Do you want to start planning the story now?_

I sigh. At least this'll take my mind off things... for now, at least.

 _DFL: Let's._

 _DTB: Alright so you know how in the books Harry isn't really insecure or nervous about confronting Voldemort? My idea was that we make him scared, have him think that he can't do anything about his curse._ _We could have him slack off, not really care about anything. His friends try to cheer him up and take him on adventures, knowing that this is probably the last they'll see of him._

It takes me a minute to process all that information, but once I do, I notice one problem:

 _DFL: Good idea, but how are you going to end it?  
_

 _DTB: That's the problem. I have no idea where to go from there._

I stop in my tracks, which happen to be right outside my room, and start pacing. Caleb comes up the stairs, and he motions that he's about to throw a strawberry back at me, but I silence him with a finger and a loud "Sh!". Once he realizes that I'm being serious, he stops and quietly enters his own room.

Idea, idea, I need an idea...

What would I do, if I knew I was going to die? I'd want to live life to the fullest.

I have an idea!

 _DFL: Ooh! They don't know each other very well at the start of the friendship, but as they get closer with these 'adventures', they realize that they'll miss him a lot. So they all agree to train. And the grand finale: they confront Voldemort._

I nearly jump up and down in excitement. I can feel something familiar tingling in my bones, in my blood, all over my body. Finally, _finally_ , I can write again.

 _DTB: YES THAT'S IT. Sold!_

 _DFL: Yay I'm so excited! It's a really good idea._

 _DTB: Thanks. And me too :)_

Tucking my phone into my pocket, I do a little dance. Caleb comes back outside, his bowl of strawberries empty.

"What did I just see?" He asks after I stop.

"Oh, Caleb!" I grab onto his shoulders and use them as supports to jump up and down. "Don't you see? I have something new to write about!"

"I hate to break your excitement," he says, and I stop my actions. "But don't you think Dad won't be too happy with all this?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, it's not like you care either."

"Hey, now." Caleb says as I pull away. "You know it's not like that."

"You know it is." I say, mood once again turning sour. "You don't even want to read what I write. And you know that Dad loves you more because of your academics."

"Tris..." He trails off, not really knowing how to respond. It's the truth, after all, and he knows it.

I kiss his cheek. "It's fine, Caleb. Just keep this between us, please?"

He nods. It must be the guilt that makes him agree with me - he almost never breaks the rules.

I hug him then, taking him by surprise. But really, I just don't want to be unhappy anymore. He hugs me back. "Thanks, Caleb."

I sigh and go back to my room. Opening my laptop, I open up a fresh, blank Word document, crack my knuckles, and let the words fly onto the page.

...

"Beatrice! Dinner's ready!" Mother yells from downstairs, per routine. Today, though, I already finished all my homework, _and_ have already gotten a good number of words on the page.

I run down the stairs, also per routine, and help my mother finish setting the table.

We say grace, then eat the exact same food as we did yesterday: chicken and rice, replacing the peas for corn.

"Caleb," My father says as my mother passes the rice to him. "How was school?"

"Good." Caleb responds curtly, like he does everyday.

"What about the robotics club? Are you guys almost done with the robot now?"

"Yeah." Caleb says, taking the rice from him. "Just a few kinks to work out. But other than that it's all ready for the competition."

Father smiles. "Good." He turns his attention to me. "And Beatrice? Any news you'd like to share?"

"No, not really. Just a regular day, I guess." I say through a mouthful of rice.

"Your brother told me that you recently finished writing another one of your stories."

I stop mid-chew, then glance across the table at Caleb, our twin telepathy kicking in.

 _I thought you would keep your mouth shut!_

 _I told him about it, like, last month!_

I roll my eyes. _Whatever._

"Um," I return my gaze upon my father. "Yeah, I did."

"That's great news, Beatrice." He says, a smile on his face. Internally, I frown. Of course he's happy that I'm done writing. Now he'll expect me to jump to some higher level classes. Normally, this far into the semester it's pretty impossible, but given his position on the city council, the school advisors will have no trouble fitting me in.

"I'm sorry." I say, my fork cluttering onto my plate. "But that is not good news for me."

He chuckles, also sitting back in his chair. "Don't tell me you're still hung up on your dream of becoming a writer, Beatrice."

I cross my arms defensively. "And what if I am?"

"Beatrice, honey." He tries to reach across the table to take my hand, but I don't let him. He sighs and continues. "I just want the best for you, Beatrice. I don't think that you - or anyone, really - have high chances of becoming writers!"

"Yes, I do!" I protest. "Have you even seen what I've written lately? People love me, Dad, they love me and my writing. But you don't care!"

I sniff, feeling impending tears. After everything that's been happening in my life lately and the accumulating stress, it makes sense. "You're supposed to support my dreams, not shoot them down!"

"Not when those dreams are rubbish!" He explodes.

I gasp and run up the stairs, leaving my food nearly untouched. Slamming my bedroom door to show my anger, I sit on my bed, staring at the floor.

A few minutes later, I hear a soft knocking on my door.

"Tris?" It's my mother. "Can I come in?"

I nod, then realizing that she can't see me, I say, "Yeah."

She lets herself in, the door clicking shut behind her. She sits at the edge of the bed with me, then pulls me into her side.

"Mommy," I say. "You support me and my writing, right?"

"Of course I do, Beatrice. But you know how your father is."

And I do. It's been this way all my life. None of us know how to fix him and his problem. My mother tried for a few years, but it only resulted in heated arguments. And now, we just have to live like this.

"Okay." Mom says, releasing me from her grip and taking my hands into hers. "What's going on?"

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"There's something else going on in that mind of yours." She says, giving it a tap.

A ghost of a smile resides on my face. "How do you know?"

She smiles back. "I'm your mother." She says. It's the response she always gives me when this happens, so I guess I'll never really know how she knows what's going on in my head.

She pats my leg. "So tell me."

And I do. I tell her everything, about Christina and her anxiety about Will, about my plans to write with DauntlessTheBrave, and about Uriah and Marlene.

When I'm done, my mother pushes the hair out of my eyes. "Well, it looks like you have a lot on your plate."

"You think?" I remark sarcastically, and she laughs.

Kissing my forehead, she says, "I know you'll figure it out, Bea. It's just a slump."

"I hope so."

"It is. Trust me." She says, then stands up and starts walking towards the door. "Now get some sleep, missy."

I salute playfully. "Yes, ma'am."

She shakes her head, chuckling, and closes the door.

My phone chimes. Thinking it's Christina, I roll my eyes, but when I open my phone I notice the text is from Uriah.

 _U: I think Marlene blocked me from her phone._

I sigh. Just what I need - more drama.

 _T: Oh. I'm really sorry, Uriah._

 _T: I tried talking to her today, but she didn't want to hear any of it._

 _U: Oh._

 _U: I... I don't know what to do, Tris. She's being so adamant about it._

 _T: I know._

 _T: Maybe you could take her on a date or something?_

 _U: Not when she_ blocked _me._

 _T: Whoops. Yeah, sorry._

I groan. Even though I didn't directly do anything, I still feel like this is all my fault.

My phone chimes again, but instead of a message from Uriah, it's from Christina.

 _C: The night has gone good so far, Tris! We're on our way back now. And when I brought up the dance next week, he said he wanted to go because he had never gone to a high school dance. And when I suggested that we go together, he agreed!_

I should probably reply to her message, but instead I return to Uriah and I's conversation, Christina having sparked an idea.

 _T: Wait a minute. There's a dance next week, right?_

 _U: Yeah? Why?_

 _T: Didn't you two buy tickets for that?_

 _U: Oh yeah!_

 _U: But how would I convince her to come with me?_

 _T: Christina will probably want to doll everyone up for it anyway. And then she'll force Marlene to 'strut her stuff' as she likes to call it and force her to go. And you'll have to go too._

 _T: And then you have to use your 'charismatic charm' to win her back._

 _U: Good idea. Thanks._

 _U: Now why was my charismatic charm in quotes? D'you doubt the Pedrad powers?_

 _T: Very much so. I don't even know what she sees in you._

 _U: :P_

 _U: Thanks, Trissy. You're the best._

 _T: You're welcome, Uri. I hope this all works out._

 _U: Me too._

I sigh again, throwing my phone down beside me and running a hand through my hair. Emotionally exhausted, I fall back into bed and fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow.

* * *

God, this chapter was awful. But you guys can **review** to let me know what you thought of it.


	4. What?

**A/N:** I don't want to sound too shallow here, but... only two reviews last chapter? Is it because of my sporadic updates? Or is the fandom dwindling (which I doubt)? I don't know. Please comment/PM and tell me your dislikes, and I can see what I can do.

I'm sorry this chapter took so long to come out. I literally have every single chapter planned out, but it's so hard to transfer thoughts onto paper... sometimes I just wish there was a machine that could read my thoughts and write them down onto paper :) This chapter also sucks a lot and is need of major editing, but I really wanted to get some content out there. Please be considerate when reading :)

Remember: DTB is DauntlessTheBrave and DFL is Tris, aka DivergentForLife.

 **Disclaimer:** As much as I love the Divergent characters, I sadly don't own them.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 4: What?

* * *

"Trissy!" Christina squeals from across the hallway as I calmly but my books into my locker. She runs as fast as she can through the hallway traffic before stopping right next to my locker.

"So." I say, getting straight to the point. "I take it it went well last night?"

"Yes." She gushes, her cheeks flushing bright pink just at the thought of it. "You were so right, Tris. I was freaking out about nothing."

"Yup." I close my locker and give her a tight-lipped smile. "That's great, Chrissy. Tell me all about it at lunch, okay?"

I leave without giving her a chance to respond.

I don't even know why I'm in such a sour mood today. I got a good sleep and all, but I guess subconsciously I'm still to worried about all this drama circulating around me.

...

"Oh. Hey, Will." I say, taking my backpack off my shoulders and sitting at our regular lunch table.

"Tris." He nods in response.

Will and I rarely had classes together. The last class I had with him was freshman gym, and before that we had a couple mutual classes back in grade school.

"What're you doing here?" I ask curiously.

"Oh, um... Christina invited me to sit here." He glances at me and pushes his glasses up his nose. "I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is," I respond. "I was just surprised, is all."

Christina sits beside me, across from Will. "Hey, Trissy."

"Chrissy." I say to tease her back.

Uriah, Four, and Zeke come join us at our table. "Hey, man!" Uriah says, bro-shaking with Will. "What's up?"

Will extracts his hand immediately from their shake. "Nothing much."

While the boys continue to pester Will with questions, Christina whispers to me, "So, what's up with you?"

I shrug. "Nothing really." I grab her plate of pasta and start eating out of it.

She steals my plate of chicken nuggets in response. "I know you, Tris. Seriously, what happened?"

"I'm telling you, it's nothing." I sigh and take a gulp of water from my bottle. "Just... drama, I guess."

I can tell that she really wants to know this 'drama', but I decide to change the subject to distract her. "So, you and Will, eh?"

"Yeah," She drops the chicken nugget that she was holding onto the plate and just stares at him for a second.

 _This girl is absolutely smitten._

"Do you approve?" She asks, suddenly turning to me and picking the chicken nugget up again.

"Me?" I look at her incredulously. "Why're you asking me?"

"Best friend code. Remember? 'Before making any big life choices, ask the other person first'."

I smile. The best friend code is something that Christina and I made up in the fifth grade. We had gotten into a huge argument on who would be the class president, because we both wanted to win, but in the end none us actually did. Not only did that crush our ten-year-old dreams, we also didn't have each other to rely on. We then decided to make the best friend code to prevent events like that from happening.

"Alright, I approve." I say. She smiles and just for the heck of it I ask her to do the handshake that we came up of way back then, too. We thought that if someone didn't remember the handshake, we could no longer be best friends.

"After all," I say, finishing the last of her pasta. "He's a normal person, and you're crazy. Maybe you guys'll balance each other out."

She glares at me and all I can do is laugh.

Count on a best friend to make you feel better.

...

I tilt my head towards the ceiling, my neck aching from the hours I spent sitting on the computer.

Rolling my shoulders, I stare back at the computer screen. I swear, I'm going to get permanent glasses at this rate; although, I guess I should probably wear my reading ones more often anyway.

 _DFL: Hey, I just sent you the first chapter that I wrote._

I immediately get a response.

 _DTB: Well that's awkward... I just wrote the first chapter too._

 _DFL_ : _Oh._

 _DFL: Um... we should have thought this through better._

I know it's selfish of me, but I really want Tobias to choose my chapter as the first one. But I know he must have worked just as hard as I did, and I can't discredit him for that.

 _DTB: Yeah._

 _DTB: Hey, do you have Google Docs? Maybe we can create a mutual doc, so that we can see what the other person wrote and add on and edit._

 _DFL: That's a good idea. Or do you want to each write one chapter ourselves?_

 _DTB: Hmm... I like my idea better. Then we can have a mix of writing ideas, you know? And we can further make sure that we're on the same page._

 _DFL: Okay, that's fine with me._

We exchange email addresses, then I wait for an invitation to collaborate. When I finally get one, I click open the document and notice that it is already filled with three pages.

 _DTB: I just copied and pasted my version. How about you do the same?_

I do so, but when I do the document ends up looking like a mess.

 _DFL: This is a mess. It's so unorganized._

 _DFL: I'm sorry. I can't work with unorganized._

It's true. My room is probably the neatest out of all my peers; I always know where everything is and make sure it stays that way.

 _DTB: It's okay. We'll cut down where we see fit._

Readjusting my position in my chair, I go into beta-reading mode, trying to find the strengths and weaknesses of each of our works.

However, it doesn't take me long to realize that our versions of the first chapter are entirely different.

 _DFL: So... you're into backstory, huh?_

 _DTB: Um, yeah. And... you're not._

 _DFL: ...This is really not working out._

I'm frustrated, and I think it shows through. I was so excited that I could finally write again, and now, it's all going to waste and spiraling into chaos. Not to mention, my social life is absolute crap right now.

 _DFL: Can... can I ask you where you live? Maybe it'll be easier to see each other face to face._

 _DTB: Um... I'm not sure if I'm comfortable sharing that._

 _DFL: Oh come on._

 _DFL: I live in Chicago. In the south, to be exact._

 _DTB: Me too..._

 _DFL: Now that wasn't so hard, was it?_

I send the message before thinking. _Calm down, Tris,_ I chant before picking up my phone again.

 _DTB: Hey, are you alright?_

 _DFL: No. I'm sorry I'm being all bitchy._

 _DTB: It's fine. This isn't how I expected things to go, either._

 _DFL: So uh... do you want to meet up so that we can talk?_

 _DTB: Sure. How does Friday evening sound?_

 _DFL: Can't. My friend is forcing me to go to the school dance._

 _DTB: ... Don't tell me you go to Roth High, too._

 _DFL: Wow. Small world._

 _DFL: Meet you at the dance?_

 _DTB: Sure._

I sigh and set my phone down. I unclip my hair from my bun, shaking it out as if that can relax me from my uptight attitude. Then I pick up my phone again and hesitantly call Christina.

"Hey, Chris." I say when she picks up. "You busy?"

"No, not really." She responds. "I was just watching Rose." I hear shuffling in the background. "What's up?"

"So, remember how I'm writing a story with someone? For fanfiction?" I ask tentatively, playing with my headphones that were laying on my desk.

"Yeah, what about them?"

"Well, it turns out that they live in Chicago... and that they go to our school... and that I'm meeting them the dance."

She squeals, and I roll my eyes at her excitement. "That's amazing, Tris! And I'm guessing you called me so that we could talk about dresses, right?"

"No no no, I called you so that _you_ could choose a dress for me and I could just wear it."

"No way, Tris." She says, and I hear the determination in her voice. "You're coming to my house."

I'm silent. "Please, Tris?" No doubt she's making a puppy face, despite the fact that I can't see it.

"Alright, alright." I relent.

I'm in for a crazy Friday.

...

"I'm so glad you came to me!" Christina squeals.

"I didn't _come_ to you," I smirk in the mirror. "You practically _begged_ me to come."

Christina glares at me. "You know, I control your entire appearance right now, so I'd suggest you shut the hell up."

I snicker.

"So, are the other girls coming too?" I ask Chris as she handles what I assume is a curling iron.

"Yeah. Shauna's bringing Marlene in," she glances at the wall clock, "half an hour. I told them to come later because they aren't as pathetic as you."

I cross my arms across my chest playfully. "Oh shut up, would you?" My hair is yanked back a little. "The reason I don't worry about my appearance is because I know you're going to pester me about it anyway. So I figure, why bother?"

Christina laughs. "Well played, Prior. Well played."

I grab her phone off her dresser, which is in arms distance, and scroll through her playlists. I saved my fingerprint onto her phone - bestie privalages.

"What's this?" I ask, clicking on one playlist in particular.

"R-o-m-a" I read the name of the playlist out loud. I meet Christina's eyes in the mirror. "Did you mean 'aroma'?"

"No," She grabs her phone out of my hand, nearly burning me with the iron. "It's... it's 'amor' backwards."

I frown. "'Amor' meaning..."

She blushes. "It's Spanish for 'love'," she mumbles.

I smile. "Aw, Chrissy!" I reach further to grab her phone, pulling Christina with me. Opening the playlist, I smirk.

"You literally have every Ed Sheeran song known to man on here." I deadpan. "Wow, Christina. You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?"

She nods hesitantly, finally setting down the curling iron. "Yeah." She grabs a regular make-up kit and takes a seat next to me. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about you, Tris."

"Me?" I ask. Christina grabs my arm and tries matching my skin tone to the ones she has, nodding in the process.

"Chris, I told you, it's nothing to worry about."

"Oh, don't lie to me, Tris." She says, finally selecting on a skin tone. "I've known you for practically your whole life. You can tell me."

I rub my eyes. "Fine. But only if you promise me to not, I don't know, freak out or something."

"Hey, I won't freak out, you know me."

I raise an eyebrow. "Christina, I've known you for practically your whole life. You'll freak out."

She rolls her eyes and motions for me to start talking. I sigh.

"Alright, well... Marlene thinks I like Uriah."

She raises her eyebrow. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"I know, right?" I sigh and lean back on the chair. "So, there's been that going on. Uriah and I have been trying to find ways to tell her that I don't like her, but she doesn't seem to be buying it."

"Is that why she stormed out on us the other day?" She asks.

I nod. "Uh-huh. Uriah is going to try talking to her tonight."

She sighs, instructing me to close my eyes. I feel the soft touch of her brush on my cheek. "Yeah, makes sense. That really sucks for you, Trissy."

I sigh as well. "Yeah. And then this whole writing thing... it's kind of a mess right now. I'm just really stressed."

"I get that." Christina says. I open my eyes as she stands up. "You know what'll take your mind off things?"

"What?"

"Listening to rock music and choosing an outfit." She says, smiling.

I smile back. Although that might not be my ideal way to relax, it certainly is better than moping around.

...

"Tris, it's the red one!" Shauna exclaims for the fiftieth time today. "It's gorgeous!"

"Fine, fine, fine." I relent. I take the dress off her hands. "I'll put it on, and then we're leaving."

"Expecting someone, Tris?" She asks with a smirk as I head off to the bathroom. I just shake my head, smiling.

"Alright, are we ready?" Chris asks everyone, about to close the house door.

"Yup, let's head on out." Shauna responds. We all climb into her car and she drives us to the school.

The tension between Marlene and I is, thankfully, not too palpable. Shauna and Christina make small talk the whole time, ignoring us.

I gratefully exit the car upon our arrival, breathing in fresh air.

"Hey, look! There're the boys." Christina says, really only paying attention to Will.

She turns to me. "Take care of yourself, okay? And have fun with your boy."

I roll my eyes. "Ok, _mom_." She mirrors the action and runs off.

I follow behind her slowly, coming face-to-face with Uriah.

"Well, look at you, Trissy!" Uriah says as I give him a hug. "Looking fine as ever, I see."

"Thanks, Uri." I look around, then lean in and whisper, "By the way, good luck tonight."

"Thanks, Tris." He says. "Really. I know this is probably hard on you, too, and I'm really sorry I had to bring you into it."

"Don't be sorry," I shake my head. "I'm glad you told me. That's what best friends are for, am I right?"

He smiles. "Right." He turns to see Marlene talking to Zeke and Shauna. "See you later, girlfriend."

I wince. Uriah and I thought it would be funny to call each other that many years ago, seeing as we were each others first friend of the opposite gender and that we weren't actually dating. "Might want to ease up on the nickname a bit."

He grimaces as well. "You're right." Clearing his throat, he tries again, "See you later, Tris."

I wave.

Now that that's settled...

 _DFL: I'm at the dance. Are you?_

 _DTB: Yeah. Meet me at the gym doors?_

 _DFL: You got it._

I move towards the front doors, standing next to a cluster of balloons. Nervous, I flip my phone in my hands. I wonder who Tobias is; I don't recall ever seeing a Tobias around at school.

Someone materializes beside me. I look up, only to find Four.

"Hey, Tris." He says, fisting his hands into his pockets.

"Hi." I say awkwardly.

After a few more moments, I take out my phone again.

 _DFL: Are you there yet?_

 _DTB: Yeah, I'm waiting there right now._

I sigh and look up again, accidentally meeting Four's eyes.

Silence. Then: "Oh my god." He looks flustered. "Six?"

I grimace, catching his flow. "... Tobias?"

"What?" The two of us chorus, completely in shock.

Four then pinches the bridge of his nose. "There's no way I'm doing this."

He pushes the gym doors open

and is gone.


	5. Try

**A/N:** I have really bad news.

Remember how in the last chapter I told you that I had everything about this story planned out? I even wrote a solid 100 words in each of them to remind myself what was going on.

And now, it's all gone. All of it. My planning, the pre-written chapters: everything.

I don't even remember where I wanted this story to go, since I had started planning this one year ago. I was solely counting on those deleted chapters and outline. And this is the only chapter that got saved, so please note that the next chapter may be later than normal as I try to remember what chapter was what.

That being said... thank you for the sweet reviews in the last chapter! I do tend to be self-deprecating but it's nice to know that I was (hopefully) overreacting.

And... this was probably my favorite chapter to write so far, and I hope you guys like it!

Also the 'poem' that I wrote at the end of the chapter is so dumb I'm sorry but I couldn't come up with anything better.

 **Disclaimer:** Sorry for the long A/N. Again, I don't own the Divergent characters.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 5: Try

Out of the one hundred seventy-one thousand, four hundred seventy-six words in the English dictionary, there's only one to describe how I'm feeling: lost.

A new batch of students walk into the gymnasium, accidentally pushing me to the side and taking me with them. My mind is spinning, _spinning_ , trying to wrap my head around that fact that Four is Tobias.

Tobias is Four.

And then I'm frustrated. God, this little reveal ruined the entire night, and our entire relationship. I can't even believe I enjoyed talking to him in the first place. I mean, he's Four, for God's sake!

"Tris?" Christina suddenly materializes next to me, bringing me back into the real world. "What happened?"

"Nothing." I grumble, my hands in fists. "I'm leaving. Bye." I turn on my heel and storm away, similar to how Four - or Tobias? - did a few minutes ago.

"Tris!" Christina yells, but her voice is drowned out by the pumping bass. I feel bad that I just left her hanging like that, but I can't really think about anything other than the fact that I feel like I've been lied to.

I open the gym doors, embracing the cold. It's dark outside, and I know I probably shouldn't be walking so late at night, but I'm just so _annoyed._

I feel my eyes tear up as I continue down the streets, not really knowing where I'm going. _You're getting emotional over nothing, Tris_ an inner voice tells me, but I can't stop the flow of tears.

God, he's going to make fun of me, call me a nerd in front of everyone and tell them the private things that I had told him. Then writing, the one thing that I love to do, will become a competition too, and it'll no longer be something fun, but something I have to compete in to prove that I am good at.

I shiver as a gust of wind blows and wrap my arms around myself. Wearing a short-sleeved dress was probably not the best idea; then again, I thought I would be in the gym surrounded by humid bodies.

"Tris?" I hear someone exclaim. I look up, my eyes blurry from the tears, and vaguely recognize Tori. "What are you doing out here, all by yourself?" She clicks her tongue. "Come with me." She says, taking my hand. We walk briskly to what I assume is her shop.

A few minutes later we arrive, and she unlocks the door and turns on the lights hastily. "What is going on? Why are you crying and outside by yourself?" She cups my face with her hands. "Oh God... Here, let me get you a hot chocolate. Just wait here, OK?" She says before scuttling to the back.

I take a seat at one of the tables and rest my forehead on the table as I listen to the sounds of her working. When I hear her footsteps coming towards me, I lift my head up and gladly take the hot chocolate off her hands.

"Thanks." I mutter, my voice raspy. I sip the drink, enjoying the warmth in my throat.

"Now tell me." She says, sitting across from me. "What happened?"

I shake my head as tears well up in my eyes again. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Tris," Tori says, trying to coax me to talk. "Weren't you supposed to go to that dance today?"

"Yeah." I whisper. "It didn't exactly go as I planned though."

"Well, what changed that?"

I wipe my face with the palms of my hands. "So you know how I was going to write that new story with another writer? And how we agreed to get to know each other a bit before starting?" I sniffle before continuing. "Well, I was an idiot and thought it would be a good idea to exchange where we lived, because in the offhand chance that the two of us lived near each other, it would make our lives easier when writing. It turns out he also goes to Faction Academy."

"But... that's good, right?" Tori asks, confused.

"No." I say bluntly. "Since Christina was forcing to me go to the dance anyways, I said that it would be cool if we met at the dance. He agreed." I frown remembering what happened.

"So?"

"It turned out that the guy who I was talking to this whole time was..." I stop and look Tori in the eyes. "... was Four."

Many emotions pass through Tori's face, but she manages to hide her surprise well.

She sighs before taking my hands in hers. "Tris, if you really want to do something, you won't stop for anything." She sighs again. "Let me tell you a story. Maybe that'll make you feel better." She says. I lean back in my seat and clutch the hot chocolate in my hands.

"When I was younger, I used to get bullied. A lot. My parents were poor and could barely pay for my schooling. They wanted me to get the best education possible, meaning that there was barely any money left for a proper house or food." Tori starts, and I can tell she's thinking back to those days. I listen closely, never before hearing this side of Tori.

"That information is bully heaven. They used to tease me everyday, even though I used to do better than them in almost all my classes." She stays silent for a while before continuing. "As I grew older, the bullies eventually found other people to pick on, leaving me some time to myself to figure out what exactly I wanted to do with my life. In the sixth grade, we had a class on home economics and art, and I instantly knew that was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life."

"My parents supported my decision wholeheartedly. Things were finally looking up for me until the start of my freshman year of high school. The summer before, we realized that my mother had cancer due to malnutrition. One look at her and the doctors knew she wouldn't last very long. Besides... we couldn't afford the treatment." She sighs, eyes glassy. "She died the week before school started."

I take Tori's hand in mine and she readily takes the comfort. "I knew the information wouldn't stay a secret for very long. One month into my freshman year and rumors were spreading that I had killed her, which was complete bullshit." She says, and her eyes widen when she realizes she swore. I wave her off, urging her to continue her story.

"Anyways, my childhood bullies ended up being those kids who would get drunk every other day and smoke pot in groups. That meant that they would take relatively easy classes, including culinary arts, which is what I was also taking. They would never stop making fun of me and my mom. One day, I just... I had enough." A tear rolls off her cheek.

"I wanted to transfer out of the class just because of them. Our school was so big that I probably wouldn't run into them in the hallway, meaning that if I left the class I could completely avoid them forever. But I didn't." She says, and her eyes, which were staring off into the distance, finally meet mine. "I didn't let them get to me Tris. I fought for what I wanted. And now look at me," she says, gesturing around her café.

"But Tori," I say, nearly at a loss for words. "Your situation was so much different than mine. And plus, you're ten times stronger than me. I mean, look at me! I'm crying about something that is nothing compared to what you've been through." I wipe my tears with my sleeve, suddenly feeling very selfish.

"You and I are very similar, Tris. We both are passionate about something. And since I fought to get what I wanted, I know that you will, too." She says, pointing at me. "You can, Tris. I believe you. And you're strong, you'll see."

When I don't say anything, she says, "I know things have taken a turn for the worst. But trust me, it'll get better."

I want to believe her. Oh how badly I want to believe her. So I give her a tentative nod.

She smiles sadly, stands, and wraps me into a hug. "Now, come on. I'm walking you home."

...

Do you ever wake up feeling great, but then you remember that you were sad about something and your good mood is immediately crushed?

That is exactly what happened to me the day after the dance.

Thankfully I had the whole weekend to think about everything that we said and Tori's advice. I haven't exchanged a single word with Four yet, but Tori's words constantly remind me that now that I'm at rock bottom, things can only get better from here.

So when I walk into school that Monday morning, I feel slightly better than what I did on Friday.

But not by a lot.

I'm on edge the whole time. There's this sick part of me that believes that Tori was lying - that things won't ever get better, that my life is set this way. I try not to think about it as take out my stuff from my locker.

"Tris!" I hear beside me. Christina.

"What's up?" I ask, even though I know what she wants to ask.

She rolls her eyes. "What do you mean, 'what's up'? You just ran away on Friday night without any explanation! I'm worried about you!"

"She's right!" I hear, and Zeke's head pops up from the other side of my locker. "The same thing happened with Four, but he wouldn't tell me what happened! We think that something happened between you two." He says, as he and Christina nod in agreement.

"Oh, so you've held a secret meeting to find out what happened between Four and I?" I say, dodging the question.

"Of course we did!" Uriah says, coming out of nowhere.

As I shut my locker, I realize that pretty much everyone, except for Four, is surrounding my locker. I raise my arms up in surrender.

"You know what, why don't you ask us when the two of us are present? I don't want him killing me for saying the wrong thing." I say in all honesty.

They all cumulatively sigh, and if I wasn't being interrogated I would have thought it as funny. "Fine." Shauna says, and the bell rings, letting me off the hook. I leave quickly before they can change their minds.

...

I take a deep breath before entering the cafeteria.

I haven't seen Four all day since we didn't have English class today, but I'm not looking forward to the inevitable.

Scanning the cafeteria, I immediately spot our friends, who are all sitting quietly, most probably waiting for Four and I.

I take my normal spot next to Christina and Uriah. "Hey," I say quietly.

Nobody responds. _Wow, not awkward at all._ I gulp nervously. I guess this is what I get for picking such dramatic people as my friends.

When Four arrives, I try to avoid his gaze. Eventually, though, I can feel his stare burning into me, and am forced to look up at him. His eyes contain some anger, some confusion, and some... hurt?

"I'm sure you both know why you're here." Zeke says in an ominous tone. I roll my eyes to try to cut the tension.

"It's nothing important, Zeke. I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that we _don't_ want to talk about it." Four says. I nod my head at this statement.

"No." Christina says bluntly. "As your friends, we demand an explanation. One second you're there; the next, you're gone. You have to understand where we're coming from."

Damn her candor.

"I..." I start. But what to say?

"Okay, listen: I write fanfiction," Four confesses, clutching a spoon like his life depended on it. "And so does she." He says, nodding in my direction.

I don't think anyone was expecting Four to say that, because the entire table is silent. I decide to break it.

"We both finished stories on there, so I thought it would be fun if wrote a collaboration together - of course, not actually knowing that he was Four. When I asked him about it, he agreed. We decided that we should get to know each other better before full-on writing, so we sent each other messages everyday." I blush at how weird that last part sounds.

We continue in that narration, completing each other's sentences. "Eventually we got to know each other extremely well. Once we thought it would be a good time to start writing, Tris asked where I lived, thinking that it would be easier to write if we lived near each other so that we can talk it out."

"It turned out that we both went to the same high school - obviously. Since Christina was already forcing me to go to the dance, I suggested that we meet there. He agreed."

"On Friday night, she told me to wait by the gym entrance. So I did. And she was standing there, too. It took us a few minutes to figure it out, but once we did, it didn't take long for one of us to leave." Four finishes.

The entire table is silent for a solid minute.

Then, from Uriah: "Wow. You write fanfiction?" He asks, pointing at Four.

I roll my eyes. "That's the only thing you got from all that we told you?"

Will shakes his head. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, I still don't understand that problem here." He says, clearly not knowing Four and I's history.

"The problem is that we are complete rivals." I sigh, picking at my food. "Now I'm pretty sure he's going to make a competition out of this, too." I grumble as a side thought.

"Woah, woah, woah, when did I say that?" Four interrupts.

I frown. "I just assumed so, based on our little 'rivalry' that has been going on for ages now."

"Did it ever occur to you that I care about writing more than this 'rivalry'?" He says, suddenly very angered. He must really hold writing close to his heart.

"I'm sorry, okay? How was I supposed to know? You never told anyone you had the slightest _interest_ in the subject!"

"OK, you know what?" Four says, slamming the spoon on that he was holding onto the table. "This was never going to work out in the first place. So sorry, but I shall be writing the story now, _by myself._ "

"Hey! You can't do that!" Angry tears fill my eyes. "I helped you come up with half of the plot!"

"Fine, I'll give you a shout-out! Happy?"

"No! Not happy!" A hot tear leaks out of my eye. "I guess Tori was wrong. If you really did care about writing as much as I did, you would know to put our differences aside, even just for the sake of the story."

"You were the one who just started assuming that I wouldn't take this seriously!" He scoffs. "I guess it really wasn't meant to be."

I stand up briskly and our friends watch my every move. "Bye." I mutter and exit the cafeteria, a hot mess.

...

Staying organized is one of the few things that calms me down.

After school, I took an emergency trip to Walmart and got some fun shaped post-it notes, erasable pens, and two new mini notebooks: one for myself and one for Tori.

Tori is a master at art; she manages to make a five minute sketch look amazing. Notebooks for myself tend to include short stories, prompts, or poems from random moments of inspiration that I tend to have.

The bell by the door jingles, signaling my arrival at her café.

"Tori!" I call out as I enter. "Guess what I got for—" I cut short my sentence as I see Four sitting in _my_ seat, drinking a cup of coffee. Four looks up from his laptop to me, and he stands stiffly, clearly not ready to let go of what happened.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"What do you mean, 'what am I doing here'? I eat here, you know!" I scoff. "What, is that a crime now or something? Do I have to ask your permission?" I taunt.

"Oh God, see this is why we would have never worked out!"

"How would you know? You aren't even willing to give it a try!"

"That's because _you_ just assume—"

"What is going on here?" Tori storms out of the kitchen, then pulls us both by the arms and takes us outside.

"You're ruining the rep of my café with all your bickering." Tori complains, crossing her arms across her chest. "Now answer my question."

"It's her fault!" Four accuses.

I burst into tears.

Tori and Four turn their heads towards me in surprise. To be honest, I'm surprised as well, but I can't stop crying. The floodgates have opened, and now I can't stop the flow of tears.

Toris crushes me into a tight embrace, and I cherish the momentary warmth that it brings me.

Four stands awkwardly in the corner, but I don't care. _Let him,_ the sinister part of my mind thinks. _It's what he deserves._

"What happened?" Tori whispers so that Four can't hear.

"I... It's just too much, Tori. First trying to console my best friend about her love life, then apoligizing to someone else for ruining _their_ love life, then having people take away writing, my one escape from it all?" I spill. "It's too much for me."

"Your dad's making a big deal of things again?" She asks softly.

I nod into her shoulder. "Uh-huh. And Christina needed help with Will, whom she's desperately in love with. And all the Uriah-Marlene drama, _ugh_ I don't even know what happened to them last night!"

Tori continues to rub my back soothingly, despite not knowing half the people I listed off.

She pulls apart and rubs my shoulder, then turns around to Four as I wipe away the remaining tears.

"Come on, Four!" Tori says, pointing at Four accusingly. "I thought you were better than this!"

"I'm sorry Tori, but I—"

"Wait a minute," I interrupt and point at Tori. "You _know_ him? Personally? And you didn't tell me?"

"Yes, I did. But you hated his guts, Tris! How was I supposed to bring it up in a conversation?"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. The point is that this... this _idiot_ over here doesn't want to even give this a try."

Tori sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. "Tobias, I know how much this means to you. Go for it. The worst that could happen is that you don't end up writing the story." She says.

Four switches his glance from Tori to me, and his eyes soften. "Fine. Fine, I'll do it."

"Good," Tori says, clearly happy with this answer. "Now, shake on it." She says, taking our hands and forcing them to connect.

Is it just me, or is it real that when our hands connected I could feel sparks? I thought 'sparks' were something you only read in books.

Immediately I retract my hand, feeling the need to shake it out. That did not just happen.

"Now, I'm going back inside, and when I do I expect the two of you to act like civilized humans." She says, pointing at the two of us as if to say _Don't you dare_ and goes back inside.

Four follows her, leaving me at a loss of words. Didn't he see me bawl my eyes out just now? It's like he has no heart.

I sigh and walk in after them, returning to 'our' abandoned seats. I open the journal that I got for myself and inhale it's scent. I love the smell of fresh paper.

Then I quickly open a page and start a new poem:

 _She was a tiny girl,_

 _Small feet, small hands, small stature._

 _But her eyes were big._

 _They took in the world, memorizing every detail._

 _With her eyes she tried to find the good in the world._

 _One day, she thought she found it - something good. Something happy._

 _But she should have known; all good things come to an end._

 _She still remained a tiny girl from then on:_

 _Small feet, small hands... small eyes._

Huh. So that was unexpected. But that's what poetry is, I guess.

 _Would this even constitute as poetry?_ I think to myself, reading my 'poem' over and over. It seems more like a blurb to me than—

"Hey." Four says from in front of me. I snap my notebook shut and place it on my lap, not wanting him to see it.

"So, uhm..." Four clears his throat. "I... I got you this," He says, pushing a cup of what I assume is hot chocolate towards me - a peace offering. "Five marshmallows, just the way you like it."

That's something Tobias knows.

I can't help but stare at him, a little shocked. My mind knows that Four really is Tobias, but to see Four do something that I would imagine Tobias to do is kind of mind-boggling.

Four wrings his hands, seemingly nervous. "I... I'm sorry I made you cry. And... that was the last thing I wanted. I'm really sorry."

I reach for the cup of steaming goodness, accepting his apology. "It's okay. Just... promise me you'll try."

"I promise." He says in an instant. "I'll try, Tris. I really will."

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the sort-of filler chapter. But at least it's an earlier update :)


	6. Your Pen is a Sword

**A/N:** Guess who finally got their sh*t together :) I re-wrote my whole outline (since I couldn't even remember a single thing from the old one). Hopefully this one is better than the last one and you guys'll like it!

I also realized that I haven't been very consistent with my timeline, so here's a quick description: Tris and Four got to know each other for about a month. Then they decide to start planning the story. Right now, they are about forty days into their relationship. By the end of this chapter they will be two to two and a half months into their relationship.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 6: Your Pen is a Sword

11:05 AM. Honors English.

"Tris!" Christina says, scooting her desk closer to mine. I twirl my pencil in my fingers.

All day today, I haven't been able to concentrate on anything. _I'll try,_ he said. Then why am I bothered so much? My writing never affected me as much as it has now.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay now?" She asks tentatively.

"I don't know." I sigh. "He said he would try. That's a start, right?"

"Of course it is, honey." She rubs my shoulder and I set my pencil down. I give her a grim smile.

Just then, Four walks in the door, Zeke by his side. He meets my eyes immediately, and I lower my head.

I can only pray that things work out between us.

The bell then rings, signaling the start of class. Christina moves her desk back to its original position.

"I trust that you all have the rough drafts of your handy." Ms. Moyer says. "Because today we will be doing our classic peer review. Go ahead and take out your work, I'll be assigning the partners."

I take out my essay from my folder and run my finger along the smooth part of the staple, anxious.

The partner assignment in this class is very random; I don't think we've ever had the same partner twice. Our teacher has an online generator that randomly assigns students to seats and partners.

"Alright, here we are." She says, projecting her computer onto the screen.

And there, lo and behold, I find that Four is my partner.

I curse internally.

"Get to it!" Ms. Moyer clasps her hands together. "Mark up each other's papers, but remember to be polite!"

I turn around and motion for Four to take a seat next to me, Christina having moved to sit next to another peer. He gets up, grabs his stuff, and seats himself down, pushing the desk so that we are a little closer together.

We exchange papers wordlessly. I click my red pen open, getting ready to mark his paper.

Ten minutes later, and I find myself re-reading the header over and over: _Four Eaton. Honors English. Ms. Moyer._

"I'm almost done with yours," Four says, flipping to the last page. "There really isn't anything much I have to add."

"Oh." I click my pen shut, then open again.

He glances over to his completely clean paper and frowns. "Is there something that you don't understand with mine?"

I don't even answer his question; I just stare at his face for a long, long time. Again, I can't seem to concentrate on anything. My mind needs a break, it seems.

"What's the matter?"

I inhale slowly. "I don't know." I lie.

I shake my head to clear my head, effectively breaking our eye contact. "Sorry. I'm just having a hard time focusing on anything."

"Is it... is it about us?" He asks, dipping his head down a little.

"Maybe," I click my pen again nervously.

"Tris," he says seriously, putting down his pen. "I told you, I'm willing to put our past behind us. I'll try. I will. No more rivalry, no more contests. Heck, you even ended up winning."

I meet his eyes.

"I never wanted this to impact you so much. I didn't realize that I had such a negative impact on your life." He says quietly.

"You didn't negatively impact my life." I say immediately. "I appreciated our rivalry. It pushed me harder in places that I wouldn't have done so well." I sigh and set down my pen as well, placing one palm on top of the other. "I'm just... scared. We've never really had a real conversation, you know? And I really wanted this to work out. I love to write, you know that."

"We've practically known each other for our entire lives." He says, eyes soft. "I know everything about you: your pet peeves, your favorite color, your preferred book genre, your GPA, your favorite subject, your favorite teacher... the list goes on and on. And I'm sure that you know the exact same things about me."

When someone slurps their food too loudly. Blue. Fiction. 3.86, unweighted. English. Mr. Temples, third grade.

He's right.

He smiles a little, seeing on my face that his words hold truth in them. "See? We can work this out. It's not like we're starting from ground zero." Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him move closer slightly. "I'm not denying that it will be hard. But I know how dedicated you are to your work, and I'm willing to try."

"Why?" I blurt. "Why are you willing to try?"

He looks down and sighs before looking at me again. "Because I care about writing just as much as you. And I realized that holding a grudge wasn't going to get me anywhere."

Something tells me that there's more to the story, but I choose to nod instead.

He opens his right palm, exposing the crevices and scars on it. One of those scars was partially my fault; he got it when we were climbing trees in fifth grade and he accidentally slipped down a little, resulting in me winning.

"Worst comes to worst, we don't write the story." He says. "But at least then you can find solace in the fact that you tried your best."

I find myself placing my left palm in his as I being to realize that I want this. I want to try.

Then he squeezes my hand, hard, and at that moment I know that we're taking a step in the right direction.

And suddenly, my head is clear.

...

"Okay, so I understand that your writing style is completely different than mine," Four says, opening the door to Tori's for me later that day. "So I'm not sure how we'll flow together."

"'Flow together'?" I ask as the door closes behind us.

"Yeah. I mean, if we have different writing styles it'll read too choppy."

"Good point." I say, setting my bag down and sliding into a booth seat. I pat the cushion next to me. Four has actually been nice to me so far, and I'm trying to reciprocate it. He doesn't seem so bad, now that we're trying to put our rivalry behind us.

"Maybe we could do some writing exercises, like write a short story together or something?" I suggest, opening up my laptop. "I mean, that tends to work for me when I'm in a slump."

I search up the key word _writing prompts_ in the Google search bar. The first link takes me to a Pinterest board.

Four slouches in his seat, extending his legs underneath him. "Pintrest?"

"Hey," I say with faux seriousness. "Pintrest has the answer to everything."

He laughs, and that's when I realize that even though I've known him for thirteen years, it's probably the first time I heard a genuine laugh in all the time I've gotten to know him.

He quirks his eyebrow. "What?"

I shrug. "Nothing. It's just... I haven't really heard you laugh before."

He shrugs. I can't believe I've been so rude that I haven't paid attention to his laugh. But I shrug too, trying to not let it get to me.

I turn my attention back to the task at hand. "Hey, look at these!" I point at my screen.

"While waiting for a friend at Starbucks, a strange thought crosses your mind: 'What if I'm the only one who can't read minds?' A glass shatters and when it suddenly becomes quiet you turn around. Everyone is staring at you with a terrifying look in their eyes." I read off the first one.

I turn to Four excitedly. "Four, these are going to be so much fun!"

"Hm..." He scrolls down. "Writing exercises would be good." He turns to me and quietly adds, "And you can call me 'Tobias', you know. But... only when no one else is around."

"Okay, Tobias..." I trail off. I like the sound of his name; it feels more natural than 'Four'. "How about we start with this one?"

"Ok. We each get three minutes to write and then we have to hand it off to the other person." Four says as I write the prompt at the top of a loose sheet of paper.

"Three minutes?" I exclaim. "That's barely enough time to—"

"Your pen, Beatrice," He holds up his pen for theatrics. "Is a sword. Use it wisely."

I roll my eyes at the cliched line.

"I start." I say, setting the timer on my phone to three minutes.

 _While waiting for a friend at Starbucks, a strange thought crosses your mind: 'What if I'm the only one who can't read minds?' A glass shatters and when it suddenly becomes quiet you turn around. Everyone is staring at you with a terrifying look in their eyes._

 _"Hey..." My friend calls out to me, breaking the tension, if only by a little. "So... you can't read minds?" She asks skeptically. In one of her hands, she holds what is supposed to be my cup of coffee. I take it and sip it slowly, as if that will try to ease the tension that I feel._

 _"How about we talk about this outside?" I suggest, nudging my elbow in the direction of the door._

I pause, tapping my pen against the paper. I want to make this story interesting, so I'll need to put a spin on this, quick.

 _I take another sip of my coffee. If the secret society find out about this, I could be executed without a second thought. And who knows, maybe one of these people in the shop actually_ belong _to the secret society. They're a secret, after all._

 _"I think I'm going to pass, actually." She_

My phone blares. I jump a little, shocked, and Tobias takes the paper from underneath me and reads it over.

"I like where this is going." He smiles a little, then begins to write. I give him space, and soon enough, it's my turn again.

I read over what he has:

 _"I think I'm going to pass, actually." She says, grabbing her phone from her pocket. "I'll see you around, 'kay?" She says, as if she's trying to tame a wild beast._

 _My cup clutters to the floor, some coffee splashing onto my shoes. I don't have time to think about how my friend is a traitor, how I want to scream that I'm still the same person._

 _Instead, I run._

 _I can hear the screams of the people in the coffee shop but I don't have time to think to speak to stop. I run and run and_

"Run?" I suggest with a smile. He smiles back.

 _I can hear the screams of the people in the coffee shop but I don't have time to think to speak to stop. I run and run and run._

 _Panting, I flail my arms, hoping to pick up some momentum. Instead I collide with someone._

 _"Keith!" I burst out, hands on my hips. "Keith, you have to help me. Please..." I try to catch my breath._

 _"I'm sorry," he says, backing up with his arms up in surrender._

 _Damn. Everyone must already be on the look-out for me. Everyone has integrated_ _technologies, which the secret society has total control of. This way, they can send out mass texts to everyone in the city._

 _"But Keith!_

I trade off with Tobias. We're doing better than I thought we would.

The timer from my phones blares out a tune three minutes later. "Tobias, your time is up!" But Tobias keeps writing, angling himself away from me.

"Tobias!" I try grabbing the pen out of his hand.

"Just a second, just a second." He rolls his wrist a couple times and finishes a last bit.

 _"But Keith! I thought you said you loved me!" Tears well in my eyes and reality comes crashing down on me._

"Wait a minute," I say, holding up a finger. "So our character is a girl? Or are they a boy?"

Tobias shrugs. "It's uh... up for interpretation, I guess." Then he grins. "Even a dystopian story needs a little romance."

 _"I'm sorry, I'm—" I cut him off by running away from him._

 _Ten minutes later, I find myself in the suburbs of the city. Exhausted, I turn into an alley way and catch my breath, hands on my knees._

 _There's a small, family-owned shop that's facing the alleyway; I know because of the aromatic smells that are emanating there. It's hard to believe that a mere twenty minutes ago, this wasn't happening to me, and I was living my life like a normal person, drinking coffee from a similar_ —

 _"There!" A man with a French accent suddenly materializes in front of me, along with three men in uniform._

 _"No!" I begin to back up before realizing that there's no where to go._

 _The men hold the latest technology in guns. I scream._

 _In desperation, I climb on top of the garbage bin, trying to hold them back. It doesn't work._

 _"Can't read minds, huh?" One of them, the one with the heavy mustache, says. "Want to know what I'm thinking?"_

 _I freeze. I may not read minds, but I'm sure I have a decent understanding_ —

 _I fall._

I nod at the ending. "I actually really like the way you ended the story. It makes it really realistic. Or at least, realistic in terms of the story."

Tobias rests his forearms on the table and sets his head down. "Thanks. What do you think of the flow?"

I look it over. "I think we're going to need to work on it a little bit. Like here—" I point with my pen. "You're using repetition a lot, and I don't do that. You either use repetition, or you don't you know?"

He nods, lifting his head up a little. "Yeah. And also, your ideas are totally... radical compared to mine. I was either going to have this be one of those 'Thank God it was a dream!' stories or a story where the main character has to go to the doctor to get themselves fixed." He winces. "Yeah, I'm not very good at plots."

"It's okay, I'm not good at using a variety of writing techniques like you are." I say, poking him with the pen.

He gives me a lazy smile and sighs. "I think we're going to need to do a lot more of these before we actually start writing fanficiton."

"Agreed."

* * *

 **WEEK ONE**

* * *

"Black coffee?" I ask, my nose wrinkled. "You really just like plain, black coffee. No cream, no sugar?"

He shakes his head. "Nuh-uh. Black coffee is the best coffee."

I take a sip from my mug and sigh. "Well as much as I like chocolate and caffeine, I've got to argue that tea is the more viable option." I set my mug down to make my point.

"No way. Just smell this, Tris," He gestures for me to smell his coffee. I do.

"It's bitter." I say, immediately turning back to my tea. "Smell _this_." I hold up the mug to his nose.

His face contorts. "It smells like flowers. You're drinking flowers."

"At least it's better than drinking snake's venom."

"It's an _acquired_ taste." He says, trying to make a point and failing miserably.

"A taste that I have yet to acquire." I say, chuckling. I take another sip, then stretch my arms up over my head.

Tori passes by us, hands full with empty cutlery. "Hey, Tori, tea or coffee?"

She smiles, picking up another plate of crumbs. "Does it really matter? As long as you two keep buying what I'm selling, I'm happy."

I can hear Tobias laugh behind me as she walks away.

I turn around and open my laptop. "Ready to try another one?" I ask, clicking the bookmarked link. The first one that catches my eye is the following: _"With this smile, I can get away with anything."_

"So let's talk about this one." I say, grabbing a blank sheet of paper from my folder and clicking my pen open. Handing it off to him, I ask, "Ideas?"

"It seems like it could be a humorous story to me," Tobias says, writing the word _humor_ down on the paper.

"Any other ideas?" I nudge.

Silence. "I've got nothing."

"Here," I say, taking the paper and pen from him. "This is how I see it. The story could either go in a positive direction, like how you suggested, or it could go in the total opposite direction."

"What's an example of the negative direction?"

"Like... the main character uses the fact that he can get away with anything to his personal, selfish gains, resulting in self destruction or utter chaos. Does that make sense?"

Tobias leans back in his chair. "Wow. Never thought of that."

I shrug. "Hey, it's all right. We're getting there."

* * *

 **WEEK TWO**

* * *

I blow the steam off my cup. I can already feel myself relaxing from the warmth in my hands.

"Rough day today?" Tobias asks me, causally sliding beside me.

"You have no idea." I say. After school today I found myself just holding Uriah, neither of us exchanging a word.

"Should I move on?" He asked me seriously, and I couldn't help but feel extremely guilty. "Because as much as I try denying it, Marlene doesn't seem to want to talk to me. At all."

"Give it time." I responded instead, patting his hair. He sighed and rested his head on my shoulder, closing his eyes.

Presently, Tobias pats my shoulder. "Well, you can forget all that, because we're going to be writing for the next hour."

"Joy." I say flatly, setting my cup down and resting chin on my hands.

Taking out his laptop, Tobias says, "I thought writing was your one escape from the world."

"It is."

"Then what's the deal?"

I roll my head to the side to face him. "I'm so bored of writing these prompt things. I just want to go to Hogwarts already."

"Hm." He says, making room on the table by moving our stuff around. "So you're ideal break from life would be to write HP fanfiction?"

I close my eyes. "Uh-huh. With no distractions. Just me, my laptop, tea, and my writing playlist in the background."

I groan, faceplanting on the desk so that my forehead rests on the edge of the table. "I would _kill_ for that right now."

"We all have those weeks." Tobias says. "But if you're ever going to get to that place, we need to work on the nitty-gritty details now."

"You're right." I sigh. "It's a good thing I have you. I would never be this determined without you."

He smiles.

"Here's a good one." He says, pushing his laptop back so that he has room to write. "I'll start?"

I nod. "Go ahead."

 _Someone drops their wallet on the street. You're about to return it when you see that it contains a surprising photograph._

"So the way I see it," Tobias says while copying down the prompt. "Is that either it's someone from the main characters past. Probably someone who's already died, which is why it's surprising."

He turns to me. "How does that sound?"

I give him a lazy thumbs up.

He frowns. "You don't like it."

"No no, it's good. Definitely better than last week." I say, finally sitting up. "Sorry. I'm also extremely tired from studying for the math quiz."

"Me too. I'm pretty sure I failed that, even despite my best efforts."

We fist bump. "Welcome to the dumb kids club." I say jokingly.

We break apart and Tobias says, "Anyway. Let's talk about you now."

He hands me the paper, then turns to his computer and searches a few things up.

"Take notes on this. These are really good things to keep in mind when you're writing and some great styles of writing."

"Ready when you are." I respond.

"One, diction. There are so many ways of saying something, but synonyms of the word have different connotations, which is important to keep in mind. Make sure the word you use is complex and non-colloquial, while also keeping the diction in mind."

"Two, foreshadowing. I'm sure you're familiar with this one." He turns for me for conformation and I nod. "This is a bit tricky to implement, but if you have a basic outline of your story it shouldn't be too hard."

"Three, sound devices. For example, there's rhyming, onomatopoeia — which we just learned in English, actually — alliterations—"

"Tobias, I can't." I set down the pencil that I was using to take notes. "Too much information."

"Sorry." He apologies. "Why don't we practice a few of them now instead? We'll go slow."

I nod in agreement.

"So, if we went with my storyline, about the picture being a deceased person from the past, then how would you foreshadow that something bad was going to happen?"

"The character could have an irrational fear and he or she keeps telling themselves that they're mistaking that person for someone else, but then that irrational fear will actually pop up." I frown. "Did that make sense?"

"Yeah, it did." He says. "You're a natural at this, Tris. We'll be in Hogwarts in no time, just you see."

* * *

 **WEEK THREE**

* * *

 _It's been fifteen years, but I still regret what happened at the lake that night. It wasn't supposed to play out that way._

"You could use a flashback," I say instantly.

"Good." Tobias says. "And what are the things that you need to keep in mind as you're writing this?"

"Use the sound devices." I say, waving the paper that I was taking notes in just last week. Now it's completely filled with notes.

"Perfect." He says with a smile.

"Let's take a break." I suggest, having worked on this for a solid hour. "And play a game."

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Chopsticks." I say, sticking my pointer fingers out.

"What's that?"

I gape at him. "You've never played chopsticks before?"

He shakes his head.

"Fine. Let's play... twenty questions!"

"I already know everything there is to know about you." He complains.

"Do I have any posters in my room?" I question anyway.

"Hm... No." He says after some contemplation. "Actually, you might have just one. A Harry Potter poster, probably."

I raise my eyebrows. "Impressive. Spot on, actually."

He fake bows, and I laugh.

"Alright... Where in my house do I spend my most time?"

"Your room." I say instantly. "Come on, Tobias. That was easy."

"Okay fine. I go again." He rests his head on his fist. "What is my most prized possession?"

"Your Harry Potter books?" That one was a hard one.

He shakes his head. "Nope. It's a blue sculpture."

"Nice. I didn't peg you as a materialistic person."

"I'm not really. This is the only decorative thing that I own."

I shrug. "Makes sense." Then, I sigh. "There's still a lot of things that I don't know about you."

"But I know everything about you." He says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nuh uh," I protest. "What about... what's my favorite... flower?"

"The sunflower." He responds easily.

I raise my eyebrow skeptically. "How did you know that?"

"Remember we were learning about flower stuff in biology class? I remember you mentioning that you loved them."

"Oh," I say, surprised. "I guess you do know more about me than I know about you."

"There's still plenty of time. I bet by the end of this I'll be your new best friend."

I hum. "You _are_ pretty high up on my friend list."

"There's a list?"

"Yeah. I'm a weird person." I say with a shrug.

"It's okay. I have a list too." He admits.

"Am I on it?" I ask curiously.

"You're climbing up there." He says, grinning.

I smile back.

* * *

 **WEEK FOUR**

* * *

"Okay, this one is going to be the best one." My finger hovers over the start button. "Ready, set, go!"

Tobias copies down the prompt: _"_ _I'm sorry I stabbed you. I love you."_

"Come on, Tobias." I coax him as he stares at the blank paper. "I believe you."

The past month, there has been a great flow of creative juices between us. Tobias always starts the prompts so that he can get some practice with coming up with plot ideas, and I've been trying a multitude of writing techniques that Tobias says he commonly uses.

After expanding my knowledge, I realize that it's no wonder he gets so many reads on his stories.

Tobias scribbles furiously across the page. I've also learnt that he has amazing penmanship.

My phone rings, and Tobias hands over the paper to me before massaging his hand. I read what he has so far:

 _"I'm sorry I stabbed you. I love you." I tell the crumpled figure on the ground._

 _I try not to look at her face, still beautiful in the fading light, as I step over her and begin my ascent up the stairs._

 _Halfway up, I pause, pressing my face against the cool metal of the railing. I can't do this. I just can't._

 _When I pulled the trigger, I not only shattered her heart into a million pieces; I shattered my own._

 _A mix of a sob and an outcry escapes my lips as I stand helplessly, watching her still figure._

"I set it up perfectly for you, Tris. Remember, use descriptors. Make us feel what they're feeling."

I nod. We continue our story:

 _Her hair, chopped into a bob. I dared her to do it, never having seen her hair be so short._

 _Her eyes, a beautiful combination of green and blue. The ocean. I could get lost in them._

 _Her lips. I wish I could have kissed them, just once._

 _Wish I could have told her how much she really meant to me._

 _I find myself on my knees, placing a quivering kiss on her forehead._

 _"Alpha 479, do you copy?" I hear the leader in my ear, calling for me. The raid must be over by now._

 _"Alpha 479," I hear the buzzing again. "All squads to Sector 23."_

 _They're coming for me._

 _I've imagined this situation every time we go out for missions; what would happen if I were to die?_

 _At first, I thought that I would give a grand speech just before taking my last breath. Then I started imagining that I would die by the time my colleagues arrived. I've imagined htat they would hold an honorable burial ceremony._

 _But I never thought it would come to this._

 _Presently, I choose to ignore them. I rip the ear piece off and crush it with my bare hands._

 _"I love you. I love you. I'm so sorry." I kiss her face, oh her beautiful face, over and over and over again._

 _"Alpha 479." I hear my commander. I stand._

 _"Why weren't you responding to me? You know you're supposed to_ — _"_

 _"I killed her!" I scream in agony. I can taste the salt of my tears in my mouth. "I'm a_ murderer _!"_

 _"Alpha 479_ — _"_

 _"Why do we kill innocent people? What is the goal of all these raids anyway? And why am I a part of it?" I exclaim in agony. I'm sick of who I've become. A follower, not a leader. A coward, not a hero. A good-for-nothing barely-human-being."_

 _"Alpha 479, if you keep asking questions I'll have no choice but to kill you."_

 _"Do what you want with me." I say. "I'm_ out _."_

 _When the bullet enters my body, I feel warmth on my skin from my blood. I can barely make out the horrid faces of my fellow squad mates as I fall by the side of my love and close my eyes._

 _It might not be the most heroic way of dying, but at least this way I know that I'll be re-connected with the one person who I care about the most: her._

"Mm!" Tobias exclaims in victory, lips sealed from the coffee he had just gulped. We high five with both hands. "We are so ready now."

"I agree." I open up my documents, share one with him, and ask: "You ready?"

...

"Tris and Tobias, get your asses out of here, now!" Tori exclaims, changing the sign of her shop from open to closed.

"Sh!" Tobias silences her with a finger to the lips as he finishes the last paragraphs of our very first chapter; we decided to re-write it entirely.

We decided to section off the writing to play to our strengths: I wrote the introduction while Tobias wrote the end, and we worked together on the dialogue and everything else.

I get up and stretch, trying to touch my toes and arching my back backward. Then I collect our plates and cups and hand them off to Tori.

"How much do we owe you?" I ask, taking out my wallet from my back pocket. I had nearly three cups of tea while Tobias had two of coffee. We also ate Tori's only dinner item, bread and soup, as we were in such a dazed state that we didn't want to break by going home.

"Thirty-four dollars and twenty-nine cents, please." She says. I fumble for cash, but only come up with a twenty dollar bill.

"Well, shit." I mumble. "I'll get it to you tomorrow, I promise."

" _Or_ , I could pay for the rest of it." Tobias materializes by my side. "Here you are," Hands a ten dollar bill to Tori, and she gives us our change.

"I _told_ you, chivalry should die." I complain as she does so, refering to a conversation that we had earlier.

"I wasn't trying to be chivalrous, I was just helping out a friend." He said, pocketing the cash. Tori shakes her head at us amusedly.

"What?" Tobias asks her.

"I knew things would work out between you two." She says. "I'm really proud of you guys."

I look up to Tobias and smile, and he does the same to me.

"Well, we're just about to publish our first chapter," I say, motioning for her to come follow us to our table. "Wanna come? We'll dedicate it to you."

"Of course I deserve a dedication. I don't know why you just thought of doing so!" She says jokingly. I slap her arm playfully.

"Dedicated... to at... tori-underscore-hp-underscore-fan." Tobias says out loud as he types it. "Thank you... for being... such a huge... inspiration."

"Why thank you, Tobias!" She says, patting him on the back. She turns back around and continues wiping tables. "As much as I appreciate all this, you guys should really be getting home now."

"Yeah, just one second." He says. "Are we posting this on my account or yours?" He asks me.

"Mine, please. I have more followers."

"Sure." He hands me the computer and I upload the document to the site, logged in as DivergentForLife.

"Ready?" I ask, my finger hovering over the publish button.

"Ready."

And then, our month's work of blood, sweat and tears is open to the public.

I give Tobias a side hug spontaneously. Although I can tell he is shocked at first, he accepts my hug.

"We did it."

...

"Bye, Tori!" I exclaim as we exit, adrenaline pumping through me.

"Bye, kiddos." The door closes behind us.

"Oh, wow." I shiver. "It's really cold."

"You can have my jacket." Tobias says, already beginning to shrug it off.

"Tobias, what did I just say about chivalry?"

"Oh come on, Tris. You're wearing a short sleeved shirt. I have a sweatshirt and a jacket." He says, patting his backpack to indicate that his sweatshirt is in there.

"Here, I'll tell you what. You keep your jacket and I'll take the sweatshirt." I suggest.

He agrees, and we stop so that he can take it out and hand it to me. I greatly accept.

"I'm really happy we worked things out, Tris." He says as I'm putting it on. "I'm so excited for what's in store for us."

I smile. "Me too."

We head our separate ways.

...

When I get home, there's a bounce in my step. My head is singing one line, over and over again: _I'm writing fanfiction, I'm writing fanfiction..._

It makes me so happy that I don't even notice my entire family sitting at the dining table with grim faces. My mom indicates for me to stop my shenanigans through her eyes, and that's how I know that stuff is about to go down.

 _Fudge._


	7. Wednesday Mornings

**A/N:** I hope everyone had a great holiday :)

If I'm being completely honest, I had this chapter ready a while back but I was too scared to post it. Some of the scenes didn't turn out the way I wanted them too, but I couldn't come up with ways to fix it and decided to post it anyway. I'll come back and edit this chapter if I can.

 **Disclaimer:** If you read my other story, you would know that I'm partial to the song, "River Flows in You" by Yiruma. Well, I've included it in this story too, along with "Canon in D Major" by Johann Pachelbel. I do not own these songs, and I of course don't own Divergent.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 7: Wednesday Mornings

* * *

"Beatrice, dear, why don't you wash your hands?" My mother says tentatively. "We're about to start eating."

I gulp and shrug my backpack off so that it rests near the coat rack. I wash my hands in the kitchen. Besides the sound of the running water, the house still eerily silent.

I take my seat at the table. Wordlessly, Caleb passes me the mashed potatoes. As he does so, I meet his eyes. The message conveyed in them is clear: be careful.

"Where were you all this time, Beatrice?" My father is the first one to speak. "You know it's not safe to be out so late."

"I was... working with a friend." I say nervously. It's not entirely a lie.

"So late into the night?"

"Uh-huh." I say nervously, staring down at my plate.

"What were you working on?" He asks.

"History. We have a test coming up soon." The lie is out of my mouth quick, before I can even comprehend it, but when I do I realize that it make perfect sense.

"Beatrice," he says in a low voice, causing my mother's head to snap up to attention. "I know I didn't raise my daughter to be a liar."

I gulp nervously and exhale slowly through my nose, posture deflating.

He takes out his phone from his back pocket, and I return my gaze to my plate, not daring to look into my family's eyes.

"If you were really studying history, then why do I see that you posted a new story on this fanfiction site?" He asks me, holding up his phone as evidence.

"Dad..."

"Beatrice, enough is enough!" He explodes, slamming the phone on the table in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you, you need to stop writing!"

"Dad, you don't know how much I need writing. I'm serious. Please, just—"

"No. Beatrice, I've had enough of this. You are _banned_ from this website."

"Have you even read what I've written?" I say, my temper rising to match his. "Maybe if you did you would realize that people actually _like_ what I'm writing. I'm good at what I do. And honestly, you're the only person I've met who is against writing."

"Writing is useless, Beatrice. _Useless_. It will get you nowhere."

"I think _I_ can determine where I want to go, thank you very much." I stand and decide to leave. I knew this would happen.

"Don't you walk away from me, young lady." He grumbles. "And I _will_ make sure you get somewhere. I'm doing this for your own good, Beatrice."

I scoff. "You just want me to be the perfect daughter. Well guess what? The 'perfect daughter' doesn't exist, okay? So just stop trying." My cheeks heat up. "And just so you know, not all of us can be like Caleb."

He stands angrily, his arm raised and poised to slap me.

I'm frozen in fear. I am absolutely terrified, and in that moment I regret everything that I've ever said to him that made him angry.

"Now you listen to me here—"

"Andrew!" My mother cries out, immediately rising to her feet and gripping his raised arm.

For the next few seconds, everything stops. I try to absorb everything that just happened, and I can't seem to wrap my head around it. Was my own father really so pissed off about my writing that he almost _hit_ me?

My dad sits back down, hand on his forehead, mumbling something to himself. I slowly walk out of the dining area and up to my room. I collapse against the door the minute it closes.

I need someone to talk to.

Should I call Uriah? Or Christina? Maybe even Tobias?

Well no, not Tobias: I don't want to get him all caught up in my life when we're still warming up to each other. And maybe not Chris either: I'm not in the mood for outlining what happened to the T.

Uriah it is.

Sighing, I lift my legs up, then adjust the blanket underneath me so that I can tuck myself in. Forget doing homework; I am too emotionally stressed.

"Uri?" For some reason, my voice is in a whisper.

"Tris?" His voice expresses concern. "What's going on?"

"Can you come over?"

"Yeah. I'll be there in five minutes." The line clicks dead.

A few minutes later, I hear the doorbell ring. I stand at the top of the steps and check to see if my dad is still there. Upon noticing that he's the only one in his room, I make my way downstairs and open the door.

"Hey, you." He greets.

I take his arm. "Come with me."

"Uriah Pedrad, is that you?" My mother's voice exclaims from the kitchen, as if the last twenty minutes didn't just happen. Walking over to us, she gives Uriah a hug.

"Hi, Aunt Natalie." He says, returning it.

"Is it okay, Mom?" I shake my head, realizing that that didn't make any sense. "If Uriah stays for a while, I mean."

"It should be fine." She says, placing her hands on her hips. "As long as you leave from the back."

"Good." I say, then continue dragging him up the stairs with me.

"Did you bring the stuff?" I say, closing the door of my room behind me.

He slides his backpack down the length of his arm, setting it on the bed. "Tea and chocolate. Right here." He says, extracting them.

I accept the thermos and open it, allowing the steam to warm up my cheeks. "Thanks."

"No problem." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and sighs. "Want to tell me why I'm here?"

Instead of answering his question, I bite off a piece of a chocolate square. Then, I gesture it at him, asking if he wants some. He shakes his head.

"Tris." He says, knowing that I'm avoiding talking.

I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. "How do you know that creating art and practicing photography are the two things that you love more than anything else in the world?"

"Because they make me happy." He says simply. He then frowns. "Does this have something to do with writing?"

"Oh, Uriah..." I set the food on the table, then collapse on the bed. Uriah follows suit as I use my hands to cover my face.

"Hey, I'm here," He says, rubbing my back. "You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I feel like Dad hates me." The words are out of my mouth before I can begin to process them, a tumble of letters strung together to make complete sense.

"What? Why?"

The first tears of the night start escaping my eyes, wetting the palms of my hands. I simply shake my head in response to his question.

He doesn't say anything either. Instead, he stands up, adjusts the blanket of my bed, then coaxes me to lie down. He then climbs into the bed after me, throwing the blanket on top of us so that it even covers our faces.

Uriah grew up without a father for much of his life. I remember when Uncle Pedrad left the world for good, Uriah and I were just seven. Aunt Pedrad wanted Uriah to stay with us a few days following because she had to deal with lawyers, the funeral, even her own grieving, and she didn't want Uriah to be there for all of that. So Uriah stayed with us for a week.

The first few days were especially brutal. Uriah was normally so happy and playful, but no matter what I did, Uriah would never respond. He spent much of the time just watching the television; though even back then I knew he wasn't fully paying attention to it.

It was on the fourth night of his stay that I decided that I had to do something. Since we were young and our house didn't have extra room, Uriah would sleep with me in my bed. That night, we both went to bed, my mother saying goodnight. Immediately, Uriah turned around so that his back was facing me.

 _"Uriah," I whispered, careful to not make much noise. "Are you mad at me?"_

 _He shook his head, still not facing me._

 _"Then why aren't you talking to me?"_

 _He shrugged. After a few moments of silence, he said, "I don't have anything to say."_

 _"You're Uriah; you always have something to say."_

 _Silence._

 _I threw the blanket over our heads, causing him to turn around inquisitively._

 _"I, Beatrice Prior, swear to keep whatever you say to me a complete secret." I said, pretending to zip my lips. "What's said in the blanket stays in the blanket. Because I know you're sad and that you have lots of things on your mind."_

 _He sighed, then extended his arms out, asking me for a hug. I willingly accepted._

 _"I meant it when I said that I don't have much to say." He said over my shoulder. "I just miss Dad, is all."_

 _"Oh, Uriah," I patted his back. My seven year old heart already broke when I heard of the news about Uncle Pedrad, but the news that I was just hearing was even worse. "I miss him, too."_

 _He sighs, but doesn't say anything else after that._

 _We stay in that position for a really long time before I start to feel something wet on my shoulder. "Uri, are you crying?"_

 _That question is enough to send him over the edge._

 _So I hold him, because we're best friends and his pain is my pain._

"I, Uriah Pedrad, swear to keep whatever you say to me a complete secret." Uriah says, causing me to smile a little. "What's said in the blanket stays in the blanket. Because I know you're sad and that you have lots of things on your mind."

A hint of a smile graces my lips. "Come here, you idiot," I say, inviting him into a hug.

I sigh, then begin talking. The blanket really does bring another layer of security, and I feel my emotions being released, all at once: anger, sadness, disappointment, and frustration being among the main ones. "We got into a huge argument about writing. You know that I've been writing with Four for a while now, right?"

He nods into my shoulder.

"Well, clearly _he_ didn't. The annoying thing is that he's bringing this up _now_ , when we've already been doing it for so long now. But anyways, that's besides the point. The point is that he hates me, he wishes that I was never born, he wishes that I was Caleb, and... ugh!" I nearly scream in frustration.

Pulling away from Uriah, my hands entangle themselves in my hair, and I pull at the roots of my hair in utter disappointment in myself.

"Tris. Tris, stop." Uriah says, clearly anxious. He tries to pull my hands away gently. I know he's scared for me, and to be honest, so am I; I've never acted this way before, nor has this affected me so much.

Tonight was just the last straw.

"I just feel like whatever I do, it's never going to be enough!" I sob violently and Uriah encages me in his arms again.

"Sh..." He says soothingly. "Don't cry, you're going to get sick."

A solid ten minutes later, I realize I forgot to mention: "He almost _hit_ me, Uriah. I... I don't know what to do!"

"Oh, Trissy," He exhales into my hair. A few minutes later, when my cries had finally reduced to tiny whimpers, he says, "You know how much I care about you, right?"

I nod into his shoulder.

"Then please don't get mad at me for saying this, but..." We pull apart again and Uriah looks me in the eyes. "Maybe you should stop writing for a while."

"I see where you're coming from," I say after a few minutes of contemplation. "But I don't understand how that's supposed to help me _and_ my dad."

"You'll be helping yourself by helping your dad." He says. "I mean, this is serious. I don't know what he has against writing, but if it's gone to this extreme, maybe you should stop."

"But... I don't want to stop."

He shrugs. "Well then I'll try supporting you. But I think that you should tell Four about this whole thing, too. Just so he knows what he's getting into. And maybe he can talk you out of it."

"Are you sure?" I ask tentatively. I'm still not sure if I want to involve Tobias with the mess that is my life.

"I'm pretty sure. I mean, talking about things always helps. And with all the time you've spent with him, you must trust him enough, right?" He raises his arms up. "But then again, it's totally up to you. I'm just suggesting this as a friend."

"No, you're right. I don't want Dad to be yelling at him too when he did nothing wrong." I look up at him. "Thank you, Uriah."

"Anytime, Trissy."

...

"Tris, dear?" Mom asks as I walk past her to grab some milk from the fridge. "What are you doing up so early?"

"It's not that early," I shrug. "Only twenty minutes earlier than normal."

"But still, it's early for you." She said, nudging me a little with her elbow before going back to making breakfast. "Normally we have such a hard time waking you up in the morning."

"Well, let's just say that I didn't feel like sleeping." I say, putting my milk in the microwave.

She sighs and turns to face me. "This is about last night, isn't it?"

I sigh as well. "You know me too well, Mom."

"Come here, honey." She sets down her spatula and extends her arms out. I immediately fall into her embrace.

I once told Caleb that I loved hugging Mom, since it always felt nice. He responded saying that it was normal to feel that way, since hugging seems to result in lower cortisol levels. I never mentioned it to him again.

Presently, she runs her fingers through my hair and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Can I go to school early today, Mom?"

"Sure, Bea. Want me to drop you off?"

To my selfless parents, cars aren't a necessity, they're a privilege. So even though we have one, we only use it when we have to go somewhere far away. My mom tends to be a little relaxed on that rule, though.

"No, I'll be fine walking." I reply, moving to get my milk.

"Alright. I'll pack you some breakfast." She says, and we work silently after that. As she prepares my breakfast, I make myself some tea and stuff the chocolates that Uriah gave me last night into my lunch bag.

"Thanks Mom. Love you," I say, hitching my backpack onto my shoulders.

"Bye Beatrice. Stay happy. For me, at least." She says, and I smile at her.

The walk to school is calming. The crisp air wakes me up, and the relatively quiet streets give my mind a rest from the chaos that has been my life lately.

I walk into the school building and notice how eerily quiet it is. It's funny how we all think of the school to be bustling with activity when in reality it's barely even open for the majority of the year.

I put my backpack in my locker, deciding that I'm really not hungry and that I'll have a late breakfast. Then I wander aimlessly in the halls, stopping short when I come across the music room.

I've been in here once, in freshman year with Christina. She was taking chorus and they had to send an audio recording of themselves as one of their assignments, and she had asked me to record it for her and see if she was still in pitch. We came to this exact room during lunch, and when I asked her if it really was okay for us to be in here, she said that the teacher always left the door open for students so that they could play whenever.

It is for that reason that I decide to take a seat on the leather piano stool. I run my hands over the keys before deciding that I want to play "Canon in D Major"; the last song that I played before I quit piano.

It takes me a while to get adjusted to the piano, and for a second I forget where to place my hands. But when I start playing, I don't stop. It feels like one of those movie perfect moments, where I can just close my eyes and my fingers could still be producing music from the heart.

When the song is over, I feel better, more complete somehow, as if the music was my release.

"Tris?" I hear. I slowly ease my foot off the pedal and lift my arms up before looking towards the sound of the voice.

Tobias.

"Hi," I greet, a little shocked. I move towards the edge of my seat, allowing for him to sit. He sets down his backpack and joins me, our shoulders touching.

"First of all... Is that my sweatshirt?" He asks, surprise in his voice.

"Yeah." I flap my arms, hidden underneath the sleeves. "It's really soft and warm. But here, let me give it back to you." I say, already getting ready to take it off.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. "Don't worry, you can have it. Happy super early Christmas."

"Oh wow. Thanks."

Silence. Then: "What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I'm always here early on Wednesday mornings."

I nod.

He then asks me, "I didn't know you played the piano."

"I played for a few years... got good enough to read the notes quickly and stuff. But my teacher was awful, so I quit."

"Oh. Well, what you just played was beautiful."

"You listened?"

"To nearly the whole thing." He runs his fingers along the keys. "I used to play, too. But I'm not nearly as good at it as you are."

I laugh and slowly play a chromatic scale as I say, "I remember starting out thinking that I would be so good. Heck, I even thought I could play Yiruma."

Tobias winces. "Yikes. That is hard. Beautiful, but hard." He says, joining my in my ascent up the keys. "Which song in particular did you want to play?"

"River Flows in You." I say simply. Tobias stops playing abruptly and looks at me.

"I _love_ that song." He says. "And you're the only person that I know who knows this song too."

"You're my first too." I say with a small smile.

"Do you know how to play it?" He asks me, turning his attention back to the keys. "I only know the left hand, since they're just the same notes repeating over and over again."

"I've tried playing it hands together, but only very slowly." I say. Pulling up the sheet music on my phone, I say, "How about you play left hand and I play right hand?"

"Sure," He agrees. I place my phone at the top along the music rack.

"Okay..." We get our hands positioned correctly. "One, two three."

What comes next is completely extraordinary.

It's slow at first, and there are a few kinks along the way, but now that we only have to worry about one hand, we are able to play the song faster and much more like the real thing. The spacious music room allows for echos to be more effective, and towards the end I even add the pedal, just for kicks. And it could have been our playing or it could have been my emotions playing tricks on me, but I started crying halfway through the song.

"Hey, are you crying?" He tries to look at my face, but I hide under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, wiping the tears.

"Oh God, I didn't even realize. I'm sorry." He says, concerned.

"No, it's okay. I've always been a silent crier." I blurt. I try to level my voice, but I can't stop crying.

I laugh through my tears. "What is _happening_ to me?"

"Well... I've never been the best at comfort," He confesses, rubbing his neck. "But I do know that hugs make everything better." He extends his arms out.

The comfort that I get from hugging Mom is nothing compared to how I feel with Tobias.

I savor the silence between us for the next few minutes. Then he asks me, "Wanna talk?"

I sniff and pull away, rubbing my eyes. "Yeah. Um..." I clear my throat. "My dad hasn't been the most supportive when it came to writing. I knew it bothered him a lot, but last night was really the worst of it. I mean, he would always criticize me and tell me that my dream of becoming a writer is bullshit, but... but last night..." I whimper and hide my face under the sleeve again.

Tobias takes my hands, revealing my face, and holds them with his own warm hands.

"Last night, he almost laid a hand on me." I whisper, so soft that you can barely even make out what I said.

I see his eyes flash. They turn from a beautiful shade of blue to a darker one, like a sea storm.

"He _what_?" He bellows. Then, clearing his throat, he returns his voice back to normal as he says, "Tris, are you okay?"

"Well... no, not really. But you're really helping." I say, closing my swollen eyes and resting my head on his shoulder.

He immediately wraps his arms around my side, and I shudder from the warm sensation that it gives me. I find myself realizing that I'm so, so lucky to have friends like him and Uriah. It feels so nice to have people be there for you; especially Tobias, who, despite only _really_ knowing me for such a short amount of time, makes me feel so loved.

"So I need to ask you something." I mumble. "I don't want to drag you into all of this family drama. If you want to stop writing with me, I totally get it. You can continue to post on your account."

He pulls away and I open my eyes. Did I say something wrong?

"Are you serious?" He isn't angry, but there's fire in his eyes. "Tris, you are the bravest person I know. You can't just give up. You _can't_ let him win."

He tucks a loose strand of hair into my ear. "You have to be brave." He whispers. "And if there's anyone I know who can do it, who can really stand up for themselves, it's you."

More tears spill from my eyes, though I'm smiling. "You're being so nice."

He smiles back.

"But... but are you sure?"

"Positive, Tris."

"Oh... okay then."

He frowns. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just... you're one hundred percent sure that you want to keep writing with me?"

He nods. "This isn't even about me, Tris. This is about you not giving up on something that you love. And I don't want you to give up on something that you love, especially to someone who doesn't know your talent like I do." He shrugs. "So, let's do it."

I hug him again.

A random thought forms in my head."Don't you sometimes wish that you could just go back to your mother's womb?" I mumble into his shoulder. "I mean, where you don't have to worry about anything? Have someone put on a brave face for you instead?"

"Mm-hmm." He hums back. "Mothers are..." He takes a deep breath. "The best."

He tries to pull away after a few moments, but I don't let him.

"Mm..." I groan, surprisingly comfortable with him. "This feels nice. Just... a little bit longer?"

He nods into my shoulder. "M-kay."

...

"Hey, Trissy," I nearly jump out of my seat, not realizing that Uriah was sitting beside me. It's only lunch hour and I'm already exhausted.

"Hey."

"So... any updates for me?"

I sigh and set my tea thermos down. "We decided that we're going to go through with it. We thought that we should be brave."

He nods. "I respect that. Now you should talk to your dad so that you can be on the same page on things."

I wince. "I know you're right, but I wish you weren't."

He gives me a sad smile.

I see Tobias enter the room out of the corner of my eye. I shove Uriah to the side. "Move, I want to sit next to Four."

He rolls his eyes playfully but complies. As Four approaches us, I signal for him to sit next to me by patting at the seat beside me. He smiles and squeezes himself beside me.

"Hey," He greets, taking out his lunch.

"Hi. I just wanted to say..." I sigh. "I wanted to thank you. For everything."

"Hey, you're my best friend." He bumps his shoulder against mine. "It's what we do."

My eyebrows shoot up. "I'm your best friend?"

He laughs at my enthusiasm and nods. "Yeah. I mean," He wiggles around in his seat to extract his phone from his back pocket. "Look what you've helped me accomplish."

He hands me his phone. It's open to our story on the fanfiction site. I notice that we have a whopping twenty reviews.

"Twenty reviews in less than twenty-four hours?" I exclaim. "Dude, that's awesome."

He chuckles as I open the reviews. All of them are so sweet, ranging from "Awesome idea, good start" to "Yay, new story!", and even "The two best writers here are collabing? It's a dream come true!"

"Wow. This put me in a really good mood."

"I'm glad to hear that."

I take another sip of my tea. "Hey, I'm tired. Can I use your shoulder as a pillow, bestie?"

He nods and slides closer to me. I close my eyes.

"Hi, Marlene." My eyes shoot open and I notice Marlene standing at the edge of the table. Shauna continues to ask, "Wanna sit with us?"

Her eyes shift to Uriah, and I notice that they are soft yet pained. She's hurting, and so is he. I find my depressing mood returning as I think about how this is all my fault.

"Um, I think I'll pass." She mumbles softly.

She turns and walks out the cafeteria.

I turn to Uriah, who is currently stabbing his food with a fork. Leaning over Tobias, I hold his hand and say, "Uriah, I'm so sorry."

He just shakes his head.

Immediately, I stand up. This has gone on long enough. I can't stand to see Uriah like this, and honestly, it's a lose-lose situation.

"Tris." Uriah says, but I continue packing my things. "Tris, stop. Tris!"

I start walking away, but Uriah grips my arm. "Tris, please. I can manage this. Did you see the look on her face? She misses me. She _actually_ misses me." He sighs. "And I'm sorry, but if you try talking sense into her, it'll just ruin it."

"But I can't see you like this. I... it's not normal. And I want to help you! Especially after what you've done for me. And besides, this really is all my fault and I—"

"Tris, just stop." He says gently, taking my hand in his. "You need to relax, okay? Just relax."

I nod and gulp down tears, dejectedly sitting back down again.

"Hey, Four," Uriah says, calling Tobias's attention, even though he was watching the whole thing. "Take care of her, okay? She's talking to her dad tonight."

Tobias looks at me, a little worried. "Of course."

I rest my head on the table, hunger having abandoned me, and close my eyes.

...

When I walk into the living room after school, the smell of bacon invades my nostrils.

Breakfast in the afternoon; my favorite. And we rarely eat bacon in this household.

"Thanks, Mom." I say immediately.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. How was your day today?"

I shrug, putting away my new favorite sweatshirt. "It was normal." As an afterthought, I add, "Oh, and Caleb is staying after school for robotics, by the way."

"I know, I got his message." She motions towards the sink for me to wash my hands. "And get two plates out."

I smile. "You want some too, Mom?"

"Of course! You didn't think I only made it for you, did you?"

I laugh and get the table ready.

We eat silently at first, but I appreciate that. I can tell that my mother knows that I have something on my mind, but she doesn't push me to say anything. Instead, she goes on to talk about the charity work she did this morning.

The conversation lulls back into quiet. I break the silence by saying, "Mom, I want to be a writer when I grow up."

She nods knowingly.

"Is that really a bad profession?"

"Well no, not really. Your father just wants the best for you."

My fork clutters onto the plate. "You're taking his side?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side, Beatrice." She says seriously. "What happened last night was not correct, in any way."

She sighs. "I talked to your father last night. He hates himself for what he did to you, Beatrice." She says softly, and I know she's referring to the would-have-been slap. "But I know that his heart is in the right place. And I'm sure that if you have a civilized conversation, you will come to an agreement."

"Mom..."

"Honey, he loves you." She holds my hand. "You can talk to him about it, okay?"

I nod.

"I'm sure after he reads the reviews that your story has gotten, and how amazing your writing is," She says, heading back to the kitchen with her plate. "He'll change his mind."

"You saw?" I ask, following her.

"Of course I did." She turns to me and presses a kiss to my forehead. "I love you, honey."

"Love you, too."

...

I've been doing my homework; or at least, _trying_ to do my homework. I'm anxious, and the signs are visible: tapping my pencil against the desk, bouncing my leg, my wandering eyes. I don't know what I'm going to say to my father tonight.

My phone chimes, and I pick it up immediately, grateful for the distraction.

 _C: When were you going to tell me?_

 _T: Tell you what?_

 _C: About what happened yesterday night._

 _T: I was going to tell you, but you weren't there at lunch today._

 _C: I was with Will. He invited me to his math club._

 _T: You hate math._

 _C: It wasn't_ so _bad. I'm making progress!  
_

 _T: Whatever you say, Chris._

 _C: But anyways, are you doing alright?_

 _T: I'm fine. Really._

 _T: Who told you about it, anyway?_

 _C: Uriah. Duh._

 _T: Right. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow._

 _C: Ok. Bye, Tris. Feel free to text me if you need anyone._

 _T: Thanks._

I set my phone down and sigh. Mid-sigh, the door opens.

I freeze. Judging from the masculine tones coming from downstairs, I can safely assume that my father is home.

Unless... it's Caleb?

I open my door just a crack and peek down the stairs.

Caleb.

I exhale a sigh of relief.

Caleb catches my eyes and starts walking upstairs. I leave the door of my room open and sit back down at my desk.

"Hey," He says, leaning against the door frame.

He doesn't wait for me to say anything back. Instead, he says, "Listen, I'm really sorry. I really am. I—"

"How is any of this your fault?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I just..." He looks down at the ground, then back up at me. "I didn't know that Dad compared the two of us."

"Oh, he does. All the time."

"Well then, I'm sorry for that." With a small smile, he says, "I guess I'm too smart for you, eh?"

I chuckle, then stand up and accept a hug.

"I'm also really proud of you."

I frown. "For what?"

"For sticking up for your interests. It probably wasn't easy."

I give him a one shoulder shrug. "I make it work."

He punches my shoulder playfully, then starts walking outside. Hand on the doorknob, he says, "See you at dinner, Trissy."

I wave and sit back down.

Half an hour later, I've finally finished my english homework. The reading assignment was surprisingly hard, as I kept re-reading the same line over and over until I finally got back to concentrating again.

I'm about to start on my next assignment when I hear voices downstairs.

It's time.

I tip-toe downstairs and wait for my father to notice me. When he does, he looks a bit shocked.

"Hi, Dad."

"Beatrice. How are you?"

"I'm... okay, I guess."

"Good. That's good." He says nervously, indicating that he didn't really listen to my reply. "I wanted to talk to you about last night. I'm... I'm really sorry, Beatrice. I didn't expect things to get that bad."

"It's okay," I say, exhaling. "I said some things that I shouldn't have said, too."

My eye catches my mother's in the kitchen. She signals: _go on!_

"But... Dad? I still want to write. I can't... I can't just forget about it. It's my favorite thing in the whole world."

"I know." He rubs his eyes. "You know, as your father, I'm supposed to support you, no matter what. And I did just the opposite."

He sighs. "But I need you to understand... I really do want what's best for you. So how about we make a deal?"

"A deal?"

"A deal." He places his hands on his hips. "If you keep your grades up all year, you can continue writing."

The beginnings of a smile form on my face.

"But one slip up, and it's all over." He says, absolutely serious. "Understood?"

This is reasonable. I can do this. "Yes. Thank you, Dad."

He crushes me in a hug. "I'm so sorry, Beatrice. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He kisses my forehead, then signals that I can go back to my room.

I close the door of my room and rest my back on it, exhaling deeply. I glance at my phone that's resting on my table, then decide to message a very important person.

 _T: Hi._

 _F: Hey. Everything okay?_

 _T: Yeah. He agreed that I could continue writing, so long as I kept my grades up._

 _F: That's awesome. I'm proud of you, Tris._

 _T: Well, I got through it because of you. Thank you again._

 _F: You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow, bestie._

 _T: See you._

I close my phone and smile behind it. Now that I have writing back and that father and I are on better terms, maybe I'll be able to get through life. And with Tobias by my side as an additional friend, things are finally starting to look up for me.


	8. update

hey everyone,

yes, i'm alive. i've been really busy and have major writers block but i just wanted to let you know that i haven't given up on this story. i promise i'll be back.

thank you.


	9. One Step at a Time

**A/N:** Thank you for all the love, everyone. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. This chapter is actually an excerpt of a larger chapter. I was going to wait to finish the whole chapter, but I feel horrible for not updating in so long. After all, I think a smaller chapter is better than waiting longer for a big chapter. So, I hope you enjoy this (filler) chapter :)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Divergent characters.

* * *

Star-crossed Writers

Chapter 8: One Step at a Time

In an attempt to please my father, my routine for the rest of the week is as follows: wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, study, eat dinner, study some more, and then sleep.

After discussing some more with Tobias, we both agreed that we would take a break from writing for a while. I apologised, knowing how long he has wanted to write; he jokingly responded by saying that he had plenty of Pintrest ideas to keep him busy.

All the while, our story has racked an impressive thirty reviews. If you would have told me a couple years ago that I could post one chapter and it would get thirty reviews, I would have told you you were out of your mind. But it's real, and it gives me hope. It encourages me to keep up my work ethic.

Presently, the bell rings, signaling the end of class. I stop by my locker to swap out my history notebook for my English notebook and my copy of _Hamlet_. I then walk towards Christina's locker. We always walk to English together.

"Hey Chris," I say. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, just a second." She fishes around her locker for her book. I keep trying to tell her that she should organize her locker, but she insists that the countless beauty supplies that she stores in there are absolutely necessary.

"Got it!" She announces, holding the paperback book proudly. I chuckle at her enthusiasm as she closes her locker.

We are silent for the beginning of our walk, and that slightly concerns me. Usually, Christina is the first person to talk, even about the most random of things.

"Hey, are you good?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" She asks, though I can tell she knows what I'm talking about.

"You're so quiet. You're _never_ quiet."

"Oh shut up, will you?" She says with a smile. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

She waves me off. "Never mind, it's stupid."

"No, tell me." I say, bumping her shoulder friendly.

She sighs. "Alright. I'm going to ask you a question, and you can't get mad at me. Okay? Because you're the one forcing me to ask you anyway so—"

"Christina." I deadpan.

"Ok, ok. The question is," she sighs. "Is there anything going on between you and Four?"

My jaw unhinges. "Christina! You had me so worried!" I sigh. "That's all you were going to ask me? You ask me that, like, every week!"

"Yeah, but you guys are so close now." She says. "You've been hanging out so often."

"Well, we've graduated from sworn enemies to close friends." I say. We stop outside the classroom to finish the conversation. "But no, there's nothing romantically going on between us."

"Oh... okay." She says. She's about to go inside the classroom, but I stop her by holding onto her arm.

"But?" I ask, sensing that there's something she's hiding from me.

She sighs. "But... you know Nita, from our class?" She whispers, pointing inside.

I nod.

"Well rumor has it that she's been eyeing Four for a long time and has it out for you now that you guys are together more."

I scoff. "Nita? Seriously?"

"I know! But now that I think of it, they're both in my math class, where it's open seating, and Nita always finds a way to sit next to him."

I scratch my head. "Now that can't be good."

She shrugs. "Just thought I'd share."

We step into class, now only minutes before the tardy bell rings, and notice that Ms. Moyer has changed the seating yet again. What used to be single desks in rows and columns are now seven groups of four desks.

I scan the room for a place where Christina and I can sit together. Then I notice someone waving.

"Yo, guys!" Zeke says from where he and Four are sitting together. There are two tables conveniently left.

I find a smile make it's way on my face.

We're inches away from the desks when a skinny brunette bumps into me and sits down, right across from Tobias.

He frowns.

"Hi guys!" Nita gushes.

Christina rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, dragging us away. "What a bitch." She mumbles under her breath.

We find a table with two of our other classmates who we don't really even know for the rest of the period.

...

"Hey," Tobias says, standing next to my desk merely a second after class ended.

"Hi." I say, clutching my things close to my chest. We all have lunch together next.

We walk out of the classroom, Christina and Zeke holding a conversation in front of us.

"Hey, listen," Tobias says. "I'm sorry about Nita. I actually wanted to sit with you guys."

I shrug. "It's okay, I guess."

"Well, you let me know if she bothers you again, alright?" He says. "You don't deserve to be annoyed by her."

I give him a small smile. "Thank you."

As we near the cafeteria, I can't help but ask, "What's her deal with you, anyway?"

Tobias shrugs. "I don't really know. She's been pestering me for a while and I haven't really done anything about it. I guess I didn't think it was that big of a deal. But when she messes with _you_ , that's where I draw the line."

I blush. "Thank you again, Tobias. That really means a lot."

He smiles and we continue walking in silence. I start thinking about how much Tobias has done for me, and again, I am baffled at how much we have grown. Still, I can't help but feel guilty that we haven't updated our story. As we were writing to those prompts a few weeks ago, I could tell how hard it was for him. Yet he was still able to push through it, all for the better goal of writing a beautiful, flowing story. And now, I am taking him away from that.

"Hey, wait." I say, grabbing his arm. He looks at me curiously. "Listen, I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to write lately."

"Tris, don't worry about it. Family comes first."

I stare at him.

"I mean it, Tris." He says, a little amusedly.

"But—"

"Sh." He places his finger on his own lips. "We've got this. _You've_ got this. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," I say, though I am still not satisfied.

We are in line to get food when I stop him again. "Wait, wait." I say, pulling us out of the line.

He raises his eyebrow. "Yes?"

"How about we ditch lunch and get a couple hundred words in?"

"Seriously? I thought you didn't want to write this week."

"Well, I've been itching to write the next chapter. Really. And I know you are too." I respond, noticing the shine in his eyes.

I tug his arm. "Come on."

"But Tris, you need to eat." He protests, but I can tell that he doesn't really mean it.

"But Tobias, writing is food for the soul." I retort on the spot, smiling at the corniness of my sentence.

He smiles wide and holds my hand. "Let's go."


End file.
